


And Then I Saw You

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anthropology, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Murder Mystery, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 60,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: Grad student Sansa Stark feels like everything in her life is going *just* right. She’s doing well in her studies, she has too many friends to count and she thinks her boyfriend of two years is going to propose to her any day now.But taking her dog for a walk in the park one night changes everything with a bark from Lady and a blink of Sansa’s eyes.She had never seen a dead body before and this woman wasn’t just dead. She had been murdered.Detective Jon Snow knows that the first eyes on the crime scene are the most important and he relies on witness Sansa Stark to tell him everything she saw. Even the most minute detail could lead to something far more important.He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that the murder of a prostitute isn’t considered that important; especially when Sansa keeps coming to see him, asking him about the investigation. Together, they both become determined to solve the murder while finding it impossible to stay apart.
Relationships: Harrold Hardyng/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 930
Kudos: 598





	1. A Body in the Park

…

**One.** A Body in the Park.

It was always an indicator to Sansa Stark that when the words in front of her began to actually blur, she had studied and read for long enough. The problem with uncontacted peoples and trying to write a paper on the subject was fairly obvious. There wasn’t a plethora of information available to her that could help since these tribes had limited contact with the outside, modern world and the contact that had been made was almost always negative. Still, Sansa read everything on the subjects that she could get her hands on and tried her hardest to approach it from a new angle.

Of the uncontacted peoples of the world, about fifty groups of these indigenous peoples lived in isolation in South America and Sansa had come to a decision tonight, sitting in a study cubicle in the library, books open in front of her. It had been nestled in the back of her mind for almost a year now but she had always done her best to just ignore it and keep reading the same material over and over again, hoping for something new to magically appear that she found before anyone else. Tonight, though, the decision had smacked her right in the front of her brain, had claimed a stake there and wouldn’t leave.

It wouldn’t be easy. Not in the least. There was also a level of danger but Sansa knew that if she was going to get her Masters in Anthropology, she had to _earn_ it.

She obviously had to go to South America.

It was clearly an easier thought to have than to actually follow through on but Sansa had made up her mind. Just like that. She did that often. She would sit on a thought and dwell and mull it over – even sometimes doing her best to ignore it altogether – but when she made up her mind, that was that. She made up her mind with complete confidence and no double-guessing. She was the second oldest of five and her younger siblings liked to run, leap and then wonder if that was something they should have done. Sansa and her oldest brother, Robb, took their time before they decided to take the leap in the first place.

Going to South America in an attempt to further her research was certainly a leap but clearly, it was one she was now going to make. In certain countries, there were laws protecting its uncontacted peoples but first, she would get herself there and then worry about how she would actually go about doing this. Her studies were almost entirely focused on uncontacted peoples of this world and what better way to learn about them then to go to the source continent where so many of them lived?

There were so many myths and misinterpretations – assumptions – about uncontacted peoples and Sansa didn’t like that. These were people, too. Just because they lived a completely different way than other people did not mean they should be open to ridicule or judgement.

With still blurry eyes, Sansa closed her laptop with a yawn and began gathering her books. Her cell phone was on the table near her arm and she hit the button to see the home screen. There were quite a few parties that night and Sansa counted ten different text messages from various friends, asking her if she was going to this party or to that one. According to the time on the phone, it was just a few minutes after ten. She could go home, change and go out for an hour or two; just to make an appearance.

Of course, as soon as she thought that, she yawned. Maybe she could go home, walk her dog, Lady, and then change into her pajamas before beginning to research of what she would need in order to travel to South America. Sansa loved a party as much as anyone but she had studied and written for so long this evening, all she could imagine doing right now was crawling into her bed. She certainly wouldn’t be the only grad student to pass up partying in favor of their bed.

She loaded her various notebooks and textbooks into her messenger bag and hugged her laptop to her chest and once making sure she had everything with her, she left the study cubicle. Other university students dotted other spaces in the library – cubicles and the tables with the lamps turned on to give the whole cavernous space warm, yellow spots of light, mixing in the with the darkness of the night that leaked in from the windows.

Outside, she paused to wrap her scarf around her neck before beginning the walk to her apartment. It was a quiet night. She occasionally heard music from someone’s passing car or the sounds of a get together in a passing apartment building but for the most part, she only heard her own footsteps in her ears as she walked down the sidewalk. She didn’t feel unsafe though. She honestly never did. This was a safe neighborhood and nothing ever seemed to happen; not in this part of town. Nonetheless, her dad had given her a canister of pepper spray and a whistle, which she wore around her neck when she walked somewhere alone – even in the daylight hours.

Sansa felt the familiar weight now and it gave her a sense of safety. Still, she was happy to reach her apartment building and unlocked the outer door, making sure that closed completely behind her before unlocking the inner door. She lived in a renovated Queen Anne house, originally built in the 1910s and flipped within the past five years, on the top third floor. She took the stairs two at a time, feeling more awake now that she knew she was just seconds away from being home.

As soon as she unlocked the front door, she saw the hallway lamp had been left on for her and Lady, her Siberian Huskey, was right there as she always was, her tail wagging back and forth so quickly, it rocked her entire body. Sansa smiled the instant she saw her. No matter how hard of a day of classes and research she had had, no matter how tired she was or how much her eyes blurred, Lady was always so happy to see her and Sansa wholeheartedly returned the sentiment.

Inside, the door closed behind her, Sansa set her bag and laptop down before kneeling in front of the dog and bestowing the greeting upon Lady that she deserved.

“Did Harry walk you before he left?” Sansa asked, rising to her feet again after an appropriate time of love and affection. Going into the kitchen, Lady following after her, Sansa saw the piece of paper, held with a magnet, on the front of the refrigerator immediately and she pulled it down, reading it with a faint smile.

_I should have listened to you last night and packed then. I’m sure I forgot something. Like walking Lady. I didn’t have time to walk her before I rushed out of here. Hopefully, I won’t miss my flight. Between time differences, I’ll text you when I’m getting my bag and I’ll call you tomorrow morning when I know you’ll be awake, too. Thank you for washing my boxers. Save me at least one ice cream sandwich. XO Harry_

“I told him he should pack last night so he wouldn’t be running around today,” Sansa said out loud, looking down to Lady, who was still wagging her tail. “One of these days, he’ll listen to me. Let me go to the bathroom first and then we’ll take you out on a nice walk.”

Sansa and her boyfriend, Harry Hardyng, had been together for two years and living together for the past one. They met in undergrad where they were first friends and where Harry graduated with a degree in finance. He currently was working in the loan department at one of the banks downtown and Sansa worked at one of the bank’s branches closer to their apartment; part time as a teller to help herself through grad school.

He was going to be away for the next week, flying home to California to stay visit his parents. Sansa would have normally accompanied him but she couldn’t be away from school for a week and there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was one trip Harry should make on his own. For some reason, Sansa thought that he had gone to see his parents and would come home with his grandmother’s ring that Mrs. Hardyng currently had. Harry had given no indication that he had any plans whatsoever to propose to Sansa but it had been a rather hastily planned trip and, well, it _had_ been two years.

(Did that mean, that if Harry asked, would she say yes? She actually didn’t know. She just assumed she would but… she didn’t know.)

After relieving herself and washing her hands, Sansa came back out and went to get Lady’s leash, on a hook next to the front door. Poor girl. She hadn’t been out for hours. It was late but Sansa would be sure to give her a good walk. She deserved it for not making a mess inside.

Her cell phone also had a hook that clipped onto the strap around her neck along with the pepper spray and whistle. It allowed her hands to be free when she walking Lady in case she had to pick up some of Lady’s business.

Outside, it somehow seemed even darker even though she had just returned home ten minutes earlier. The lampposts were all lit, shining large circles of light onto the sidewalks and streets with spots of darkness between each one.

“Hey, Sansa!”

Looking across the street and up, Sansa smiled when she saw one of her friends on the second-floor balcony of the building across the street.

“Hi, Beth!” She called back with a wave.

“Are you coming over? Chester brought a chess set over that uses shot glasses! You can be vodka or whiskey!”

Sansa laughed at that while hiding her grimace. Just imagining taking shots of straight vodka or whiskey made her throat crawl. “I’m going to take Lady on a nice walk and then I think I might just stick to my bed tonight! I’ve been in the library for the past few hours, researching, but thank you!”

“Any luck with the research?” Beth asked. Behind her, another song began to play and this one seemed louder than the last. She shouted even louder to make up for it.

“I think I have to go to South America!”

“Don’t we all?” Beth laughed. “Just come on over if you change your mind!”

“I will! Good night!”

Sansa and Lady continued on down the sidewalk, happily relieving herself and then sniffing at everything they passed. Again, besides the normal sounds of the neighborhood, it was a quiet night and Sansa tilted her head up towards the sky. Living away from downtown afforded her the luxury of able to see some of the stars on a particularly clear night – like tonight. The moon was just a crescent and didn’t afford that much light; the spots away from the streetlamps truly bathed in darkness.

“Oh, Lady, we shouldn’t tonight. It’s too late,” Sansa said once she saw where her dog was leading her. During the daylight, Sansa walked Lady to the park just a few hundred yards from their apartment, at the bottom of the slight downward slope of the road, and as was her habit, Lady was leading Sansa there now.

But although Sansa had always felt perfectly safe in her neighborhood, there was never harm in being _too_ careful – especially for a lone woman walking alone at night. Her dad had taught her there was no such thing as being too safe or street smart. Unfortunately, the world was one where women had to be aware of their surroundings at all time.

“Lady,” Sansa said again and added a gentle pull on the leash. “Let’s start to head back.”

Lady would not obey though. The dog had braced herself and was immovable. She was staring down the street, towards the park, and her ears were straight up in the air. Sansa looked to her dog and then following her eyes, she looked down to the park as well. There was something about the absolute stillness in the air and the perfect stillness of Lady. There seemed to be absolutely no sound at this end of the block. It was as if, somehow and quite suddenly, the world had completely stopped.

Sansa tightened her fingers around the loop of Lady’s leash as a knot tightened in her stomach.

Something was happening or _had_ happened. She didn’t know how she knew. She could just feel it. When Lady let out a sharp bark suddenly, Sansa swore she jumped straight into the air. Her heart leapt into the bottom of her throat and stayed there. She lifted one hand to the cell phone hanging around her neck; as if to feel that it was still there along with the pepper spray and whistle. Still staring straight ahead to the park, Sansa brought the whistle to her lips. She didn’t blow on it – yet – but she rested it between her lips and kept it there.

Together, she and Lady began to walk forward again. Sansa felt the tenseness in her body with each step, her muscles strained and already aching from how tight Sansa was bracing herself. There were lampposts along the curves of the walking paths within the park but the light provided offered Sansa no comfort. Things were still too silent and yet, Sansa got the feeling that she wasn’t alone. Somewhere, there was someone. The hairs standing up on the back of her neck let her know of that and another thing her dad taught her was to never ignore her instincts.

She shouldn’t be walking _into_ the park, she knew, and yet, she couldn’t turn herself around. And Lady certainly wasn’t going to be turning around. The dog seemed to be on some sort of mission and all Sansa could do was hold the whistle between her lips and follow.

She was scared.

But she didn’t try and stop Lady as the dog continued leading them through the park. There still wasn’t a single other person around – which wasn’t all that odd at this late hour – but there also still wasn’t a single sound. Not even the wind seemed to be blowing.

Lady then stopped – abruptly – and Sansa did as well, colliding with the invisible wall in front of her. For a moment, she didn’t know why Lady had stopped or what Lady had seen and Sansa’s eyes quickly, frantically, moved around the area of the park they were at. Trees grew on either side of the paved path with lampposts dotting the way but past the lamppost’s provided light, Sansa couldn’t see anything. It was too dark. All around her, it was just too dark.

But then…

The whistle fell from her mouth as her eyes found what she was supposed to see.

Inside the yellow orb of light, there was a hand. And an arm.

The rest of the person’s body was outside of the circle, in the darkness, but the hand and arm Sansa saw, neither were moving. Sansa dared to take a step closer, both wanting and needing a closer look. Lady didn’t move though. Now that she had led Sansa here, the dog had braced herself again and wouldn’t move another step closer to that hand and arm.

Sansa wasn’t going to let go of the leash because now, her entire body was cold and knotted and she was more scared than she could ever remember being.

“Hello?” She called out but then snapped her mouth shut.

She shouldn’t have done that. What if the person who had caused that body to be there still here?

She took the step back so she stood at Lady’s side once again. What would her dad or her brother, Robb, do if they were here instead of her? She wanted to go to that hand and arm but she knew she couldn’t. Her dad or Robb would know that something awful had happened here and if she went closer, she might ruin any kind of evidence that might be pertinent to this scene.

Sansa brought her phone up and unlocking it, she dialed 911 with a trembling finger and brought it to her ear, waiting for the operator to pick up. She had never called this number before and didn’t know what they would ask of her. She didn’t know anything. There was a body in the park and please come as fast as you could because the person might still be alive and they needed help.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A man picked up from the other end.

Sansa exhaled a breath she had been holding in her lungs without even realizing it. “I’m Sansa Stark and I’m in Brighton Park, walking my dog. I see something ahead on the walking path. I think it’s a body.”

“You think or can you confirm?” The man asked.

“It is. It _is_ a body but I haven’t wanted to get too close in case… I don’t want to ruin anything. If the police come and I’ve ruined something they might need-” she began to talk quickly, feeling the need to defend herself and to explain her actions. Or lack thereof.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of the hand and arm, still flopped over into the yellow lamppost light. What if the person needed her? What if they weren’t dead and they needed someone? If that was Sansa, lying there, she would want someone to come be with her.

She wouldn’t want to be alone.

“That’s good. Don’t disturb anything. Where in Brighton Park are you?”

Sansa stood still in her spot, staring ahead. Was this truly happening? Was she actually on the phone with 911 because she had found a body? Was she actually back at home, in bed as she had planned to do tonight, already asleep and this was just a dream? A nightmare?

She then shook her head, vaguely hearing the 911 operator asking her a question. “I’m on the path that leads towards the basketball courts. I don’t… what if the person needs help? Shouldn’t I go and try to help them?”

She had to go towards them. She had to see who it was and if she could help. She couldn’t just stand here and wait. Lady had obviously led her here because the dog had sensed something and now that Sansa saw what that something was, she had to do something herself.

Her heart, still in the base of her throat, was beating so rapidly, it was a pair of bird’s wings, desperate to escape. Every muscle in her body still ached at both how tense she still stood and how scared she still felt herself be.

“Stay right where you are, Sansa,” the man said. “Don’t move and don’t approach the scene. I have dispatched the police and they have two units coming your way. Stay where you are.”

Sansa stared at the hand and arm in the yellow light, not moving, and she tightened her own hands around the loop of Lady’s leash. She swallowed thickly. “Alright,” she answered because what else could she do?

…

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50780998951/in/dateposted/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this first chapter!! My muse has been so fickle lately for this pairing but the instant I thought of this story, I can't think of anything else and I've already begun working on the next chapter. I hope this story is interesting for some!
> 
> I usually write modern Westeros as a mix between US/UK but this is the first time I'm writing a story for these characters entirely in the US. I feel a bit more confident/comfortable writing crime and procedures in a US setting.
> 
> Chapter Two - Detective Snow.


	2. Detective Snow

…

**Two.** Detective Snow.

He was in such a deep sleep that when the phone began to ring, it caused him to jolt into a sitting position and his arm flew out, knocking the lamp from the bedside table, crashing it to the floor.

“Fuck,” Jon Snow grunted. He searched for his phone, finally hitting the green accept button, and about to turn on the lamp before he remembered that he no longer had a lamp to turn on.

“Can you be ready in five minutes?” His partner, Jaime Lannister, filled his ear.

“You made me break my lamp,” Jon said, lying back down. He reached a hand out, feeling for Ghost, before he remembered. When he woke up in the middle of the night like this, it always took him a moment to remember. Ghost wasn’t there anymore. “Five minutes?” He then registered what Jaime had said to him.

“Body in Brighton Park. We’re up.”

“Yeah.” Jon pulled himself up again and forced himself to stand from the bed. “You have coffee?” He found a pair of pants on the floor and he picked them up, shaking them out as if that would get rid of all of the wrinkle out.

“Just pulled out of Dunkin' Donuts.”

“Wait. Brighton Park?”

“Pretty much my reaction, too, when I heard. See you in four minutes.”

…

Jon rented a place from Anne Steward. It was built behind her own house – a carriage house – with its own garage and the apartment above it. It was perfect for him and his oftentimes unorthodox schedule of being a homicide detective; like being woken up a twenty minutes after ten o’clock and having to leave, probably being gone for the rest of the night. Living in a place behind someone’s house, he wouldn’t disturb her or her teenage son, Olly.

He had met the Steward family in the worst way possible. Oliver Steward was shot during a carjacking and later died from his wound. Jon – with Jaime – had been assigned the case. They solved it within two days and Anne invited them both to the funeral and luncheon. He couldn’t remember exactly how Anne had found out but Jon had just broken up with his girlfriend, Val. Well, Val broke up with him and kicked him out of their apartment. It had been a stereotypical display with her throwing his clothes and books out the window but no matter how the breakup had gone, Jon – with his dog – now needed a place to live. And at the luncheon, Anne had found out and asked if he would be interested in renting a place from her.

“I’ll feel safer, knowing you’re there, to be honest,” Anne had told him.

It would also help her and Olly out financially without her husband’s income, renting out the carriage house, but that went unsaid.

A year later and it really was the best arrangement Jon could have gotten for himself after he and Val parted ways. It was a nice apartment in a nice neighborhood and Anne Steward owned her own catering company so she oftentimes left leftovers for Jon outside his door if she had any.

Jon now stood at the end of the driveway, wearing black pants – still wrinkled – an equally wrinkled white button-down shirt and a black tie. Homicide detectives were expected to dress a little more formal that others on the force. He made sure he had his detective badge around his neck and his gun clipped to his belt. It was just after 10:25 and there was still plenty of lights still on in the windows of the street. Jon had fallen into bed, exhausted, around eight that night and he was grateful for the two hours he had been able to get because a body found in Brighton Park? This wasn’t going to be easy. He already knew it. Brighton Park was in one of the better neighborhoods of the city and not exactly a hotbed for crime. There might even be a lot of press on it, too. 

A car came up the street and began to slow down so it came to a stop in front of Jon. Behind the steering wheel was his partner, Detective Jaime Lannister. His brother-in-law, Robert Baratheon, was a Captain within the police force and with that family connection, Jaime could have been in any department he wanted, heading it up, and Jaime knew that, too. But he didn’t rely on his family or various connections for anything. He was like any of the others. He had worked his way up, studied and took the detective’s exam and here he was.

He could be kind of an asshole sometimes, but Jon had been with him for a year now and he was used to it. And he also respected Jaime for actually wanting to put in the time and effort and make his own name for himself.

“Black,” Jaime said once Jon had gotten into the car and closed the door. He held one of the white paper cups for him and Jon took it.

“Thanks,” Jon breathed gratefully and took a sip. “Brighton Park?”

“Girl was walking her dog and saw a hand and arm in the light of one of the lampposts,” Jaime said, sipping his own cup as he drove with one hand; really, two fingers. Jon had gotten used to Jaime’s driving.

Jon was quiet, sipping his coffee, knowing Jaime wouldn’t no more than that so he didn’t ask. “When did it rain?” He asked instead, having noticed the damp driveway as he stood there and now seeing the water droplets on the car windows.

“Just a sprinkle about an hour ago.”

Jon hoped that that hadn’t washed anything away from the scene that they would need. His first crime scene as a newly-minted detective had been a disaster because it had been in the middle of an all-day rainstorm and by the time he and his training senior detective had arrived at the scene, anything that could have been deemed useful to the investigation was gone forever. That case had almost gone completely cold because of the damn rain.

The Brighton Park neighborhood had been filled with extravagant homes from the turn-of-the-century before it fell on hard times that lasted for a few decades before a revitalization began to happen. Now, the Queen Anne and Victorian homes that dotted the streets were just all about rehabbed – either as single homes or broken into apartments. More than one well-to-do member of their city’s society now had moved to the Brighton Park neighborhood. The park was at the bottom of the main street in the area and when Jaime and Jon arrived, there were two police cruisers, their red and blue lights on but silent. There was also an ambulance.

Jon took note of everything as he got out of the car, taking another sip of his coffee. The area was already taped off and he was pleased to see that the officers weren’t trampling over everything. He took note of the young woman standing off to the side – safely removed from the scene – and holding the leash to a beautiful Siberian Husky. One of the officers stood with her. That must be the dog-walker who called it in.

“Detectives,” one of the officers, Parker, greeted them with a head nod and then held the tape up so Jon and Jaime could walk underneath it, entering the scene.

“Finish that for me,” Jon said to the man and handed him the coffee cup. Parker seemed eager to do so. And now that Jon’s hands were free, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat for the small notebook and pen always kept there.

The body was of a female – young from what Jon could tell but she was lying on her front and her long, dark red hair was blocking her face. He would know for sure once they rolled her over. Her head was directed towards the park and the feet were pointing towards the walking path and parking lot beyond that. The arm the dog-walker had seen – the left – was stretched out to the lamp’s circle of light and her right arm was stretched out in front of her, over her head. The fingers were curled into the grass as if she had been trying to grab hold of something.

She wore a knee-length purple dress adorned with all sorts of beads that sparkled and a short black fur coat. Her legs were bare and there were no shoes on her feet. Her legs were spread crudely apart and it was noted that the woman wore no underwear.

Jon wrote everything down that he saw. He hated the idea of this woman, on display, for anyone that could pull up but they couldn’t move her body yet. One of the others on scene were taking pictures from every angle and Jaime was slowly walking around the body. The lucky bastard had a photographic memory and rarely had to write things down to remember them.

Jon moved in closer and crouched down next to the body’s side. He frowned a little when he took note of something. “You said it rained?” He lifted his head to look at Jaime.

“Maybe it didn’t rain here,” Jaime shrugged.

Jon’s frowned remained as he reached a hand out to touch the sleeve of the coat. “The grass is damp but she’s dry.” He stood up again. “She was killed somewhere else.” He lifted his head to look at the dog-walker. “I’m going to go talk to her. See what she can tell us.”

Jaime looked at the young woman as well from over his shoulder before looking back to Jon with the smallest smirk. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to. Jon just frowned at him and that smirk broke into a grin.

“Are we good?” Jaime asked the photographer.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

Two of the crime scene investigators, wearing gloves, crouched next to the body, and as slowly as carefully as they could began to turn the body over onto her back. A sharp gasp cut through the quiet air and Jon lifted his head, seeing the dog-walker clamping a hand to her mouth and spinning her back to the scene. She was far away but she had seen enough. It’d be hard to miss.

There was blood on the grass beneath her. Whoever had done this to her had definitely done a number and it was clearly done by a knife.

Jon and Jaime both crouched down on either side of the woman to get a closer look.

“That would do it,” Jaime pointed to the throat and the cut there that was so deep, it only proved Jon’s assessment.

If she had been killed here, there would be blood _everywhere_ because not only was her throat cut, but it looked like there were too many knife wounds to count on her chest and stomach. Jon pulled out his own pair of gloves and snapped them on before moving away locks of the woman’s hair. When he and Jaime both saw her face, Jaime exhaled heavily and stood up.

“Glad I didn’t get that egg sandwich,” he muttered to himself.

Jon looked to Officer Parker. “She have any ID on her?” The state of her face, it would take a while to properly identify her if she had no other information on her.

“No purse nearby and nothing in her coat pockets,” Parker answered.

There were some detectives who cracked jokes and laughed at crime scenes. More than a few videos caught by bystanders had been posted on YouTube about it and most didn’t understand and were quick to pass judgement. But for many of those at these crime scenes, facing the violence people did to one another, trying to remove themselves from it by cracking a joke here or there was the only way to get through it without absolutely breaking down.

Jaime was the sort to crack an inappropriate comment here or there. Jon was the sort to completely remove himself from it. His brain processed what his eyes saw but it was as if a part of it shut itself off, creating an almost out-of-body experience with every crime scene he went to and saw someone else, dead because of another. The way people treated one another, Jon had been a detective for two years now and he would never get used to it.

He didn’t think it was something he was supposed to get used to.

(He never thought about the detectives at his own mother’s scene and if they had said a joke here or there to try and break the mood of what they walked upon. If he thought about that, he wouldn’t think about anything else and that wouldn’t help anyone.)

Standing up, he turned his back on the body and let the photographer resume taking pictures. He would let Jaime look for anything else. He needed to step away for a moment. He pulled his gloves off and bent down, stepping under the tape and out.

He took a deep breath and then another.

Officer Lerner was standing with the woman but when he saw Jon coming his way, the officer moved himself away, back towards the others. Now that he was closer, Jon could see that the young woman had red hair, too. Not as dark as the victims, but just as long. She was wearing hers pulled up in a ponytail. The Siberian Husky sat at her side – a girl, Jon could see – and when she saw Jon coming, the dog stood up on all four legs, immediately at attention.

And feeling her dog move, and perhaps sensing someone behind her, the young woman turned towards him.

Jon felt himself pause in his steps as he looked to her face for the first time. Now was far from an appropriate moment to have such a thought but this young woman in front of him was beautiful. But then he took note of her red eyes and the whiteness of her skin, looking even more pale, and Detective Snow snapped back.

“I’m Detective Snow,” he stepped in front of her. “You’re the one who called 911?”

The woman visibly swallowed. “Sansa Stark. And yes. I was… I was walking my dog and I… well, actually, Lady led me here. She sensed something or heard something… I don’t know.” She took a shuddering breath and Jon forced himself to not think about taking her hand in comfort.

He wrote her name down in his notebook. “And this is Lady?” Lady swept her tail at the sound of being addressed. He smiled faintly down to the dog. “Would you be able to answer some questions for me, Lady?” Her tail moved faster. Looking to Sansa, Jon saw her looking past his shoulder, back towards the scene and the woman’s body.

Subtlety, Jon stepped to the side, blocking her view.

“Do you live nearby, Ms. Stark?”

“Sansa,” she corrected him. “And I live just a block away. I had been in the university library, studying all afternoon and most of the evening. I came home and took Lady for a walk. We usually come here for walks but I didn’t want to. It’s late and…” she swallowed again. “Lady, though, pulled me here, to this spot. She _knew_ something was happening.”

“What do you study?” Jon asked, hoping that if he asked her about something other than the park, she would be able to relax and focus just a little bit.

“Anthropology. I’m a grad student.”

“Anthropology. That’s people, right?”

Sansa had still been looking past him – though she couldn’t see anything past his shoulder – but at his question, her eyes went back to him. “The study of humanity, human behavior, human biology and societies. I’m writing my thesis on uncontacted peoples.”

Though he knew none of this mattered for the case, Jon wrote it all down anyway. “I take it that uncontacted peoples is exactly what it sounds like?”

For the first time, Sansa looked at him and it looked like she almost wanted to smile. “Yes.”

Jon nearly smiled a little, too. “So, walk me through the time. You study and then come home to walk Lady.”

Any trace of wanting to smile was wiped from her face and she nodded. “It was just a little after ten. Like I said, I felt it was too late to walk to the park, even though we live so close. My dad, he taught me to always be aware of my surroundings and always be too safe.”

“Smart man.”

“He is. So, I didn’t want to walk to a dark park even if it’s in my neighborhood. But Lady… they always say that dogs can sense things that we can’t and she was so determined to get me here.” Looking to Jon’s shoulder and envisioning the woman who laid past it, her eyes began to well.

“So, you saw the body around ten?”

“A few minutes after.” She lifted her phone and looked to the screen. “I called 911 at 10:11.”

“Did you see anything else? Did you hear anything?”

Sansa began to shake her head at the question. “No, I…” she trailed off. She looked down to Lady, her fingers clenched around the leash’s handle. More tears pooled in her eyes and she shook her head again. “I can’t help her.”

“No.” Jon took another step towards her. “You’re doing great. You really are. And you called as soon as you found her. That helped more than you know. So, you didn’t hear anything? A car or anything pulling away?”

Sansa carefully thought his question over, clearly going over everything in her mind. But he could tell she was thinking too hard and was clearly getting frustrated because she visibly was clenching her teeth together and tears flooding her eyes.

“Hey. It’s alright. You’re alright. Here.” Jon reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “This is my number. You call me if you think of anything. Day or night. No matter how small you think it is.”

Sansa nodded and took the card, looking down to the print on it. “Jon Snow,” she said softly; to herself and Jon was not going to think of how nice she said his name.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked. “Officer Lerner!” He called to the man before Sansa could answer his question either way. “Could you please drive Ms. Stark and her dog home?” For some reason, he expected her to argue and assure him that she was fine to get home on her own, but she was still staring down at his card and holding the dog leash so tightly. “I mean it, Sansa. Day or night.”

She lifted her eyes and looked straight into his. “What’s going to happen to her?”

That was a question he hadn’t been expecting. “Um… she’s going to go to the city morgue. The county coroner is going to do an autopsy and we’re going to try and identify her.”

“And if you can’t identify her?”

She would be labeled as a Jane Doe and buried in the unmarked section of the city cemetery.

Jon definitely didn’t tell her that though. Instead, he thought of the body lying in the grass behind him and he looked at the girl standing in front of him and he did the one thing that detectives were never supposed to do. He made a promise.

“I’ll identify her.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to those reading this one! I know it's a little different and won't be for everyone so I really appreciate it. 
> 
> In the next chapter, Sansa can't stop thinking about this unidentified woman and decides to pay Detective Snow a visit to see if he's made any progress.


	3. Recollection

…

**Three.** Recollection.

As soon as Sansa, with Lady, returned to their apartment, she went straight into the bathroom and took a Unisom. She couldn’t imagine falling asleep without the aid of a sleeping pill and she wondered if she would ever be able to fall asleep naturally again without taking a pill to help.

That woman… that poor woman… Sansa couldn’t get her out of her head. Who was she? Who had done that to her? _Why_ would anyone do that do another human being?

Her head was spinning as she got herself ready for bed and made sure the front door was locked tightly. Harry, as he said he would, had sent her a text when his plane had landed in California and was waiting for his bag but Sansa didn’t text him back. He was going to call tomorrow and she wondered if she would tell him about tonight. Of course she should tell him. Why she was wondering whether or not she should didn’t make sense to her. Harry was her boyfriend and he should know that his girlfriend found a murdered person tonight and a detective talked to her. Why would she even consider keeping that a secret from the man she lived with and who she was fairly convinced was going to propose to her?

She laid in bed, Lady stretched out along her leg as always, and stared at the card in her hand. Detective Jon Snow. HOMICIDE. The man had seemed nice; or as nice as a man could seem to be in that particular job in that particular situation. It wasn’t as if Sansa had ever met another homicide detective with whom she could compare.

She stared at his name and the number printed beneath. She wished she had a reason to call it but she had nothing useful to tell him. She couldn’t remember anything. She had been walking Lady – well, actually, Lady had been walking her – she saw that woman’s hand and arm and she called 911 straightaway. She couldn’t remember before or after that and once again, Sansa felt hot tears of frustration beginning to sting her eyes. That woman needed her help and Sansa couldn’t seem to give her any.

She hadn’t heard a single sound in the park. Actually, she remembered that quite clearly because it had been so unsettling. The sheer _silence_ of everything around her.

There had to be something else though. There _had_ to be and she was just missing it or blocking it out for whatever reason. It didn’t make sense that things would be silent. That woman hadn’t just appeared in the park. Someone had brought her. Someone had left her. Someone had just dumped her there as if she was nothing.

A tear slipped from the corner of Sansa’s eye, sliding down her temple into her hair. She had no idea what that woman had been but she had been someone. Of course she had been someone and no one deserved to just be thrown away like a piece of junk. 

The Unisom hadn’t kicked in yet and all Sansa was doing was lying bed, blinking up at the ceiling and driving herself crazy. She pushed the covers off her body and pulled herself out, Lady immediately waking up and following after her as Sansa left the bedroom. When she saw that they were going to the living room, Lady went to the dog bed that was set out for her on the floor at the end of the couch and dropped herself down.

Sansa laid on the couch, on her side, and took the blanket that hung over the back of it, making sure her entire body was covered. She rested her head on one of the throw pillows and then reached forward, she grabbed the remote control from the coffee table.

The last thing she and Harry were watching on Netflix was an episode of “You” but the last thing she needed was a show about an obsessive stalker. Instead, she put on “Dumplin’”, which was honestly one of her favorite movies, and she could have it on without needing to concentrate on it; which was exactly what she needed right now.

That woman. Who was she? What if Detective Snow couldn’t find out? He had told her that he would identify her but what if he couldn’t?

Her face… Sansa had been at a distance but she had still seen enough of it – and she wished she hadn’t. Who would do something like that to someone? Just thinking about it now, even more tears flooded her eyes and she had to close them.

She didn’t understand it. She studied anthropology. She fell in love with it during her freshman year of undergrad when she took Introduction to Anthropology because she had needed another credit and that class was chosen at random. But then, as the professor dove into the material, Sansa would look forward to Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at 10 am for the class. By midterms, she knew she wanted to take all of the anthropology classes the university had to offer.

She spoke with the professor about it, who just seemed positively elated, and then she went home for Thanksgiving and told her parents that she was going to change her major from Communications (chosen because she had no idea what else to pick) to Anthropology.

“What are you going to do with that?” Her sister, Arya, had asked when Sansa talked about it.

Sansa honestly didn’t know but she didn’t think that that should matter. She had always done well in school and enjoyed it – as much as a kid enjoyed going to school – but for the first time in her life, for whatever reason, she was _hungry_ to learn as much as she could.

She had immersed herself in her studies for the past few years. An anthropologist was a person engaged in the practice of anthropology. Anthropology was the study of humans within past and present societies. During her junior year of undergrad, she had taken Violence and Suffering, which was basically a class on the history of crime and murder throughout the centuries.

She had gotten an A in that class.

But now, she wanted to take that A and that class and demand a retake because what she saw tonight with that poor woman, she didn’t _understand_. People weren’t supposed to act like that. They were derived from animals but their moral compass was what was supposed to separate them. People weren’t supposed to brutally murder others and treat them like trash.

Someone wasn’t supposed to murder a woman and…

And cut off her cheeks and nose. No _person_ should be able to do such a thing.

The Unisom finally began to kick in just as Sansa’s head pounded with a headache and she fell asleep on the couch with tears still wet on her cheeks.

She dreamt of being in Brighton Park, running down the path, trying to get towards the woman in the yellow circle of lamppost light but no matter how much Sansa ran or how fast she tried to go, she could never reach the woman in time.

...

Her phone’s alarm woke her up the next morning and when she finally peeled her eyes open, the sunlight was streaming in through the windows as it always did in the mornings because the front of the apartment faced direct east.

Sansa hissed and squeezed her eyes shut as if she was drunk, nursing a hangover – or a vampire – and she threw the blanket over her head, giving her a few more precious seconds to adjust. The phone’s alarm was still dinging and she reached an arm out from the blanket, blindly searching for it on the coffee table. She brought it under the blanket with her and saw the front lock screen.

Oh, no.

One missed called from Harry as well as one text. _I know you’re probably researching and I don’t want to annoy you. Call me when you can. XO_

There were _three_ missed calls from her mother as well as three voice messages. Sansa brought the phone to her ear and listened to the first one, her stomach knotting, somehow already knowing what these messages were going to be.

_“Sansa, your father had the morning news on and they found a body in Brighton Park. The police weren’t releasing a name so please, please call me so I know that it’s not you.”_

The second and third messages were far more frantic and just as Sansa was bringing the phone back from her ear so she could hit the button to call her parents’ house, a rapid knocking practically shook the front door in its frame. Lady, still sprawled on her bed, stood up at the noise and began to bark.

“Oh, no,” Sansa breathed, and flinging the blanket off of her, she flew from the couch and practically threw herself against the front door.

She peeked through the peephole – needing just a second – before unlocking everything. She opened her mouth to say something but before a word could fall out, both her mom and dad had their arms around her and were crushing her in a hug between them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for worrying you. I took a Unisom,” she tried to explain, muffled into their shoulders.

Ned and Catelyn Stark just hugged her tighter. She knew her dad should be at work and the fact that he was here, obviously, that Unisom had done the trick and had successfully knocked her out for a few hours while giving her parents heart attacks.

They both pulled their heads back and Catelyn put her hands on Sansa’s cheeks. “You’re alright,” she stated as her eyes rapidly took in every inch of Sansa’s face.

Sansa looked at her parents, their arms still around her – making no move to let her go – and she thought she would be all cried out but she was wrong. Yet again, she felt the tears start to come.

She shook her head. “I found her,” she whispered.

“What?” Ned asked, moving his head a little closer so he might hear her whisper better. “What did you find, sweetheart?”

“The girl in the park,” Sansa looked at them both. “Lady and I, last night. We found her.”

…

“I’m coming home.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sansa’s response was immediate. “Why would you come home? What would you do?”

“I don’t know. _Be_ there,” Harry said before sighing. “Do you want me to come home? I’m coming home.”

“No, you’re going to stay in California with your parents and you’re going to take this much needed vacation from the bank and I’ll see you once you get back in a week, as planned.”

Harry was quiet, thinking that over, and she knew that he wasn’t going to catch a flight home. She knew he would but only if she truly begged him to. That was what Harry did. Yes, he was thoughtful and occasionally surprised her with flowers or a special carton of chocolate milk but for their entire relationship, it was very much Sansa leading the way and Harry following her.

Honestly – and she had never told him this – but sometimes, she wished that he would be spontaneous and just do something by the seat of his pants. Like, instead of calling to ask her if he should come home, just hopping on a flight and coming home without telling her.

But that wasn’t what Harry did and she knew that and she loved him anyway.

(She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. Sansa wondered why she had to remind herself that and repeat it like a mantra.)

“I’ll see you in a week,” Sansa broke the silence.

“You call me if you need _anything_ ,” Harry reminded her what she already knew.

“I will,” she promised.

After hanging up with Harry, she finished her walk across the campus and hurried up the steps of the Social Sciences building. She didn’t have any classes that day but she did have a meeting with her advisor, Daario. He was much like her. He was a year away from forty and he taught classes, yes, but as he described himself, he was a professional student. He had his bachelors, two masters, one doctorate and was working towards another. He had lived with various tribes all over the world and when Sansa found out that he was her advisor, she was thankful. Daario was exactly who she needed as her advisor.

He would be able to help her figure out what she needed to do for her thesis. God, was it just last night she had thought of going to South America? That already felt like a dream; it had happened so long ago. So much has happened since then.

“You’re making it too difficult,” Daario said from behind his desk absolutely covered in papers. Sansa knew his computer’s keyboard was somewhere underneath the mess. She had just laid out her somewhat jumbled thoughts to him and Daario had respectfully listened but now, he was smirking a little and shaking his head. “Sansa,” he leaned forward and resting his arms on the desk. “It’s a thesis for your master’s. You’re talking about work for a doctorate or a special to air on National Geographic. You need to tone it down.”

Sansa frowned. “Tone it down?”

“You want to go to South American and… what? What will you do then?”

“Find an uncontacted tribe.”

“Just like that? Tribes who are experts at literally keeping themselves hidden from the outside world, you’re just going to stroll into the Amazon jungle and find a tribe and then what? Before they shoot with poisonous darts or beat you with their hunting clubs, what will you do?”

“That last thing I’m in the mood for today is you making fun of me,” Sansa frowned.

She sank down in the chair across from him enough for her to rest the back of her head on the top of the chair and blink up at the ceiling.

“I’m not making fun of you, Sansa. I’m helping you. For your thesis, you need to focus on _one_ tribe and then, for your doctorate, we’ll go to South America.”

“We?” She caught the word immediately.

“You need contacts. I have contacts. You need someone who speaks the languages. You need to show them that you respect them and that takes more than just a weekend or a month. I’m talking serious time down there, spent with them, living with them. If they let you.”

“Would Silvia come with us?” Sansa asked, bringing her head forward to look at him again.

Silvia was Daario’s wife; a woman he met in Colombia two research trips ago and she was currently pregnant with the couple’s first baby. Silvia wanted to go back to Colombia to give birth so she could have the same midwife helping with the birth that had delivered Silvia. Daario still needed to be convinced about that.

Sansa knew her quite well and she would never tell Daario this because she liked Daario, too, and he was a very big help to her, but she thought Silvia was too good for him. She thought that with absolute love and respect for her friends, of course. For instance, she knew Silvia would never tell her to "tone it down" while talking about something she loved.

“Don’t trust my Spanish?”

“Silvia’s for the Spanish. I would need you for the Nukak.”

“That’s the one you’re going with?” Daario began to smile.

The Nukak tribe were nomadic expert hunter-gathers who lived in the Amazon of Colombia. They were uncontacted until about 1981 and had since lost half of their population to disease. Others chose – threatened by the outside world – to leave the jungle and assimilate in order to preserve their culture. However, Colombia actually was strict with patrolling and was regarded as one of the countries where their indigenous uncontacted people were offered maximum protection. Therefore, despite their lower numbers, many Nukak still lived, uncontacted.

“I think so,” Sansa answered his question. And then, after another moment, “Yes. I’ll write my thesis on the Nukak.”

“Excellent choice,” Daario smiled though she knew he would have said that about any tribe in South America she might have chosen. “Now go, focus on the Nukak, and we’ll plan a trip to South America in two years.”

Their meeting was now done but Sansa couldn’t bring herself to leave. And Daario watched her for a moment, waiting for her to say something more. And she wanted to say something more. She wanted to talk about what she saw last night – tell him what had happened – but she didn’t. She was still trying to process it and make sense of it – though there was _no_ making sense of it, Sansa knew – and talking about it out loud might help, but she knew she still couldn’t talk about it without breaking down in tears.

When she talked with her parents about it, she had been gasping for air by the end of it. She liked Daario and considered him a friend – advisor or not – but she didn’t want to gasp in front of him.

The office was quiet. Daario had a clock on one of the shelves of the bookcase and it ticked away. Outside of the office, she heard two people laughing at something as they walked down the stairs. Outside the window, she heard a car in the parking lot that really needed to get a muffler check. And a song popped into her head then. The car, it was playing a song too loudly and she didn’t know how but the singer sounded familiar. He was singing about a Waterloo Sunset. But his voice… she knew that voice.

With a gasp, she sat straight up in the chair and it was enough to make Daario jump in surprise at the suddenness of it.

“What is it?” He rightfully asked.

The song was fading now as the car drove away but Sansa knew she was right. That man’s voice was in the back of her head without her even knowing it and now, it was screaming at her.

“I have to go,” she told Daario as she grabbed her things in a frenzy and he called after her but Sansa was already running down the hallway.

She knew she could just call him and tell him that she finally remembered something from the park but she wanted to see Detective Jon Snow and tell him in person.

(The last thing on her mind was _why_ she wanted to see the homicide detective with her own eyes rather than just making a call.)

…

She was shown to the homicide floor by the policeman sitting at the front desk of the police station and she took the elevator to the third floor. The doors opening, she saw that there were cubicles. That surprised her. On television and movies, they always showed a homicide department as being this huge open space with desks crammed together and so much noise.

Here, there were phones ringing, yes, but for the most part, it was quiet.

They weren’t tall cubicles and standing on her toes, she tried to look over the tops of them to see Detective Snow’s head but she didn’t see him. Was he even working right now? Maybe he was home or had gone out, chasing down a lead. Wasn’t that what detectives did?

She should have just called. What she had to tell him wasn’t _that_ important. She didn’t have to come down here and see him. Why had she come all the way down here to see him?

“Sansa?”

She spun instantly and saw the man from last night. He was wearing what he had when she spoke with him – wrinkled black pants and an equally wrinkled white button-down with a black tie, slightly loosened around his neck. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows and she didn’t mean for her eyes to go down to his bare arms but of course, that was exactly where they went because she told herself to _not_ look at them.

He had just come from the break room with a cup of coffee in one hand – the cup was white ceramic with FUEL on it – and a pack of Nutter Butter cookies was in his other.

He looked tired and he looked handsome.

Handsome? Where the Hell had that come from, Sansa? She frowned to herself.

“Is everything-”

“I remembered something,” she blurted out.

“You did?” His eyes widened at that.

“I don’t know if it’s from the car that dumped her or just a car passing through the park but I heard a song. It was muffled through the windows, but I could still make it out. I didn’t remember it because it was only for a second before it was turned out.”

“Did you know the song?” Jon had turned and was walking away at a quickened pace.

Sansa assumed that he wanted her to follow him so she did.

“I’ve never heard it before but I remember a part of it.” Jon glanced over his shoulder, waiting for her to tell him. “Nothin’ in the world can stop me worryin’ ‘bout that girl.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter will not be popular because it's just a lot of Sansa thoughts and hardly any Jon BUT it's a necessary chapter to move us along. Next chapter, we will see FAR more Jon and Sansa (and some partner Jaime thrown in). Thank you very much for reading!


	4. Dr. Sam Tarly

…

**Four.** Dr. Sam Tarly.

It would be wildly inappropriate for Jon to act as if he was happy to see this girl for any reason other than she might be able to help in his murder investigation. Being happy to see her for _any_ other reason was just not allowed. Calling her by her first name instead of “Ms. Stark” was also inappropriate but Jon was just going to move on.

“Sorry,” he hurriedly apologized for the mess once he led her into his cubicle but Sansa didn’t seem to notice – or even hear him – as she slowly lowered herself into the chair that was set up next to his desk. There were crime photos spread out but just as he moved to hide them from her view, Sansa picked one up; a picture of the victim while still on her stomach.

Jon knew that he should take it away from her. This was an ongoing investigation and he couldn’t just have anyone come in from off the street and look at these crime photos. Yet, as he slowly lowered himself into his own chair, he couldn’t stop her. She was staring at the picture – at the woman – and it was as if she had transported herself back to that spot.

He remembered when he saw his first dead body – his mom’s – and he saw her at least once a day. Even if she hadn’t been his mom, it’d be hard to forget. Being his mom just made it a million times worse. He knew that right now, every time Sansa closed her eyes, she was seeing the woman from last night. He didn’t know this young woman but he was sorry she was going through this.

“Have you found out her name?” Sansa lifted her eyes to look at him.

Today, her hair was down and he saw that it was a long length. There were two braids pulling back the front locks so those kept out of her face. And what a face it was. Jon felt like a piece of shit for thinking, again, how beautiful she was.

“Not yet,” Jon answered her question. “The morgue is a little backed up at the moment. We’re still waiting for an autopsy and hopefully, there will be something on her that will help us with making an identification.”

Sansa nodded at that and said nothing as she returned the picture to his desk.

“I… I took this class once, one of my anthropology classes, about crime and murder and trying to understand the history of it in society. But last night… I don’t understand last night,” she whispered and looked down to her hands in her lap.

“I’ll never understand it,” Jon said, making her look to him again. “The things I see every day, the things people do to each other, I don’t think we’re supposed to understand it.”

“How long have you done this?” She waved her hand towards his desk.

“A little over two years. Maybe by my twentieth, I’ll be numb to it.”

“I’m not sure what’s worse. Doing these things or being completely numb to them.”

Jon wasn’t sure what to say to that so he didn’t say anything. He woke up his computer and typed in that bit of the song that she remembered playing from a car the night before. The Kinks. He knew enough of their songs; not the entire catalog though and this was one he didn’t know. The song was from 1965 and he wondered…

“Hello there.”

He looked up when Jaime returned to the cubicle they shared, his desk across from desk, and he smiled as soon as he saw Sansa sitting there.

“Hello,” Sansa said, almost automatically, up to the man.

“Detective Jaime Lannister.”

“My partner,” Jon added.

“Oh!” Sansa now shook his hand and looked to the man as he sat down at his desk. “So you’re working this case as well?”

“I am. Did you remember something?” Jaime asked her as he loosened his tie.

“Nothin’ in the world can stop me worryin’ ‘bout that girl,” Jon answered.

“The Kinks,” Jaime nodded knowingly. “You heard it?” He asked Sansa.

“Just for a moment. It cut off suddenly but I heard enough to remember that line.”

“I’m checking 97.7’s webpage. They usually keep a record of what songs they played and when,” Jon said as he went to the oldies radio station in the city that played this particular kind of rock. “Can you go to the Sirius page and see if you can find anything?”

Jaime turned to his computer without argument. It was something small but it was something small that usually pushed cases like this forward, they both knew. Maybe, after the autopsy was done, they would have a clear time of death and they could narrow down her last known location. Sansa didn’t know it but she remembering that song helped them more than she knew.

Even if the car had nothing to do with the murder or dumping the body, finding out the time it was playing could make all the difference in the world.

“Wish me luck,” Jaime grinned at them both as he picked up his phone. “I have to call Sirius’s customer service.”

Sansa had been watching them both – watching them do what they did and investigate – and at Jaime’s comment, Jon saw the smallest smile tug at the corners of her mouth. He didn’t know why but his stomach felt a slight pull at that; as if he didn’t like the idea of Jaime making her smile – which he knew was completely ludicrous and it’d be best to move on from that, too.

“Here.” Jon found it on the radio’s play history page and Jaime promptly hung up the phone, standing up to come look to the computer screen. Sansa leaned in a little, too. “That song played last night at 10:08. And it looks like the song’s a little under three minutes long. You called 911 at 10:11,” he said and Sansa nodded in confirmation.

“Maybe that was the car,” Jaime said as Jon made a screen capture and then hit the print button. He returned to his own chair to sit down again. “You would need a car to move a body. In that neighborhood, it’s too risky to carry something like that and not be seen by someone. Even at that hour. Only an idiot would try to move a body without a car.”

Jon noticed that Sansa was picking at the thighs of her jeans as if she was picking at lint. Her eyes were watching both of them, clearly listening to everything they said.

“And we would have to assume he lives somewhere near Brighton Park,” Jaime finished.

“Why?” Sansa spoke up and her eyes widened for a moment; as if surprised she had spoken.

“Most killers like to see the aftermath of their handy work,” Jon explained. “They get off on seeing police and bystanders seeing what they’ve done. If he doesn’t live near Brighton Park, it meant something to him. He knew the attention it would give him. If he doesn’t live there, he was still hanging out to see the body being found.”

Sansa visibly shivered at that.

“We’ll know more when we have her time of death,” Jaime said, tilting back in his chair and knocking his head back so he looked up to the ceiling.

“So what do you do now?” Sansa asked them both.

“We wait,” Jon said. He began gathering the crime scene photos, putting them in a somewhat orderly manner again, looking to each one as he did so; hoping he had missed something the first dozen times he had looked at them. “It’s not like television. A lot of it is waiting.”

“TV has taught me that the first 48 hours of a murder investigation are the most important.”

“They are,” Jaime agreed, still looking up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his stomach. “If the victim wasn’t a prostitute, they are very important.”

Jon saw Sansa visibly stiffen at that.

“Why do you assume she was a prostitute?” Sansa asked and her voice sounded just a touch harder. “You don’t even know who she was yet.”

“True and I’m not saying that this vic was a prostitute. I’m just saying that if she was, it makes our case a lot harder and it’s going to go far past 48 hours.”

Sansa looked to Jaime for another moment before looking to Jon; as if she was waiting for him to disagree and say something that went again Jaime’s words. Jon couldn’t though because Jaime spoke the truth. They didn’t know if this woman had been in a particular line of work or not but if it turned out that she was, that would make the case a lot harder to solve.

Prostitutes worked in a high risk profession. They got in and out of cars with strangers all night. Jon would _never_ say that these women were asking for something awful to happen to them but the truth was, they opened themselves to it.

Also, if she was a prostitute, the truth, as well, was that – unfortunately – the urgency of solving the case would drop down to the bottom of the pile. Yes, everyone wanted to get killers off of the street but there also people – the higher-ups of both the police department and district attorney’s office – who felt that police resources could be spent on much more important crime cases.

“I need to get home and walk my dog,” Sansa said, getting to her feet. Jon found himself standing, too. Jaime continued looking up at the ceiling. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and slung the strap of her messenger bag onto her shoulder and without looking at either of them, she left the cubicle.

Jon wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing or why he was doing it but he walked after her and hurried his steps so he could catch her before the elevator arrived. She looked at him when he appeared at her side, looking confused; her eyebrows drawn together and it giving her the most adorable crinkle between them. He noticed that she hadn’t pressed the down arrow button yet.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry that you have to go through this,” he clarified. “I know what you’re going through and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Sansa looked down to the floor at that and swallowed. He knew she was collecting herself but when she lifted her head again, her eyes were noticeably wet. “If she’s a prostitute… _was_ a prostitute,” she paused again after correcting herself in the more correct term. “How many cases like this are you actually able to solve?”

Jon decided to be completely honest with her. For whatever reason, he looked into her blue eyes and pretty face and knew that he wanted to be honest. “We solve a lot of them. Not all though.”

He didn’t tell her that a lot of them weren’t solved until years later; when a person was caught for one thing and they were able to be tied to other crimes. She didn’t need to know that.

Her fingers tightened around the ends of her green scarf. “Would you be able to let me know if you find out who she is? I would like to know her name.”

“Once we find out who she is and if we’re able to contact family first, I can let you know.”

“Thank you,” Sansa breathed at that.

“Would you like to go get something to eat with me later?”

The question fell from Jon’s mouth and he would have been confused by it if he hadn’t been wanting to ask that. He had been wanting to ask that; he just hadn’t thought he actually would. Thank God his brain and mouth didn’t seem to actually be working together.

“Oh!” She looked rightfully surprised at that and this was definitely not professional – Jon knew – and yet, he hadn’t been able to help himself. “I, um, I have a boyfriend.”

Christ, he should have known that already. Girls that looked like Sansa Stark _always_ had a boyfriend; or at least an entire room of admirers and possible suitors.

“Of course. I’m sorry-” he began to say before Sansa promptly cut him off.

“But I would love to get something to eat. I haven’t really eaten…” she didn’t finish.

“If you don’t mind driving back and forth, there’s a really good greasy-spoon diner right across from the station.” Jon wasn’t going to think about why – if she had a boyfriend – Sansa still wanted to go get something to eat with him but he sure as Hell wasn’t going to ask questions. “I’ll be able to take a break for dinner in a couple of hours.”

“That sounds really good,” she nodded, looking at him and giving him the faintest smile. “I’ll see you there in a couple of hours.”

…

Dr. Sam Tarly was the city coroner and he called just a few minutes after Sansa left, letting them know that he had completed their Jane Doe’s autopsy.

As like a hospital, the morgue and attached exam rooms smelled faintly like chemicals – a mixture of cleaning and preservative chemicals. Sam was writing notes on a clipboard when Jon and Jaime entered through the swinging doors and lifting his head, seeing that it was them, he instantly smiled. Despite what he did and the sorts of things he saw on a daily basis, Sam was one of the most jovial people – not just men, but of all _people_ – that Jon had ever met.

“Detectives,” he set his clipboard aside and then moved to the table with a body, currently completely hidden beneath the white sheet that covered it.

“What do we have?” Jaime asked, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. It was Bubblicious and Jon could smell the strong strawberry scent from across the table.

“Well,” Sam moved the sheet down just above the woman’s breasts. “It was murder.”

Jon glanced down when he looked at the woman again. Her cheeks and nose had been cut off and it was gruesome, to say the least, because past that, Jon could tell that she had been a very beautiful woman in her life. Her dark red hair was spread around her head like a pillow.

“Thank you, doctor,” Jaime said with a little smirk.

Sam just kept on smiling despite their topic. “He cut her down to the windpipe and it was the first wound inflicted. And would have killed her well enough. But for whatever reason, he didn’t stop there. As you can see,” Sam waved towards her face and then moved, lowering the sheet down her naked body, exposing the rest of it. “Twenty two stabs wounds to her torso and stomach as well as one to her left thigh. It actually looked like he was going to cut here. See the deeper lacerations?” Both Jon and Jaime leaned in to look. “Some of the wounds to her torso and stomach were nothing more than flesh wounds and then some, for whatever reason, he made quite deeper. It almost looked as if he was going to cut a square of skin from her thigh but then stopped himself at the last moment.”

Jaime blew a bubble and it exploded with a _pop!_ “What the Hell would he do that for? And the face? Why the cheeks and nose?”

“He hated her,” Jon heard himself say. “This is a man who really hated this woman.”

“This woman or any woman?” Jaime wondered and leaned in closer to the woman’s face.

“I would say this woman specifically,” Sam said. “He attacked her from behind which makes me think that she trusted him enough to turn her back on him and you are looking for a man who is left handed. The cut on her neck was from right to left.”

“A prostitute would turn her back on a client if he wants a certain position,” Jaime noted.

“Did she have any distinguishing marks?” Jon asked.

“Yes!” Sam seemed excited. “I meant to show you that right away.” With his gloved hands, he showed them the underside of her left breast. A rose tattoo with an “R” growing from a thorn.

Jon nodded. That was exactly what they needed. Again, it might not seem a lot but it was just enough. He looked at the tattoo for a moment and then at the mess of this woman’s body. The police department had a tattoo data base of everyone ever arrested before. It might have seemed like an awful thing to hope for but Jon hoped that this woman had a record. If she didn’t, they would have to go to the press and pray that someone would come forward for an identification.

“Do you have a time of death?” He asked, looking to Sam again.

“I’ll tell you what. She was found just a few minutes after it happened. This was a frenzied attack and was done quickly. Time of death would be around 10.”

“The park wasn’t the kill spot. This cut in her throat alone would have sprayed blood everywhere,” Jaime said, blowing another bubble as he now looked closer to her neck.

“So, whoever did this would have had to live close by,” Jon deduced. “To kill her and then dump her in Brighton Park that quickly.”

“I would say so,” Sam nodded and then began pulling the sheet back over her body. “Happy hunting, Detectives.”

…

As soon as they got back to the cubicle, Jon sat at his desk and went to the department’s database. Unfortunately, “rose tattoo” in the search turned up hundreds of hits. He obviously filtered out the men right away and then focused on the women. “Letter R” helped filter it down a bit more until there were just ten names with their mugshots.

Jaime leaned in next to him, still snapping on his gum.

Jon scrolled slowly, taking his time, and then, there she was. The last picture on the page. Ros Wallace. A beautiful woman in her early thirties with long, thick dark red hair. Arrested for solicitation three separate times. Known association – Petyr Baelish.

“Fuck,” Jaime groaned, pulling back and going to collapse into his chair. “Jon, I’ll pay you a thousand dollars if you go talk to that man without me.”

Jon smiled and hit the button, printing off Ros’s picture and charge sheet. Petyr Baelish was a pimp. A classy pimp who ran the most beautiful escorts in the city and who only the most wealthy of citizens could afford the services. He was smart, too; successfully avoiding being shut down despite what almost all knew that he did.

Jon couldn’t stand him. He was the definition of a snake oil salesman, in his opinion. Looking at how beautiful Ros had been in her life, it wasn’t a surprise that she was one of Baelish’s girls. Or rather, _had_ been one of his girls.

“Her last known address was actually at his house,” Jon noted.

“I hate the guy but there’s no way that Petyr Baelish did all of that shit to one of his girls. He’s an asshole but not sadistic. And if he wanted to kill one of his girls, he would hire someone else to do it and wouldn’t have made it this easy for us to trace it back to him.”

Jon agreed with all of that. If he had anything to do with this, he was too smart to make it this easy for Jon and Jaime.

He looked to the clock at the corner of his computer screen. He was supposed to meet with Sansa at the diner in just under an hour.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Jon turned in his chair to look at Jaime. “I will go talk to Baelish without you if you track down if Ros had any family and go give them the news.”

Jaime grabbed a post-it from his desk and spit his gum out into it before tossing it into his trashcan. He looked at Jon, studying him, and slowly breaking into a grin. “You would do that?”

“You do realize you’d have to deliver the worst news that a family member could ever get, right?” Jon made sure his partner understood.

“Honestly, I would still rather deal with that than having to talk with Baelish.”

“I’ll go talk with the man first thing in the morning.” He began gathering his things.

“You’re not going tonight?”

“No,” Jon shook his head and then stood up, grabbing his coat. “I’m going to go eat dinner and then go home. I need sleep. We know her name, what time she died, how she died and where she lived. It’s enough for today. If the forensics report comes in tonight, can you let me know?”

“Hey,” Jaime said just as Jon stepped out of the cubicle. He poked his head back in and Jaime gave him a grin. “Say hi to Ms. Stark for me when you see her at dinner.”

Jon frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s unprofessional. She’s got a boyfriend and… that’s unprofessional, Lannister!”

But as he went towards the elevator, Jon could hear Jaime laughing all the way from their cubicle and he punched the down arrow button with far more force than ever necessary.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at the greasy spoon diner from Sansa's POV in the next chapter. She certainly agreed to dinner with Detective Snow quickly. 
> 
> As always, thank you to those who are reading this one. One of the worst things about myself is I have this horrible habit of comparing myself to others in the fandom - stories that have more popularity or comments than mine. I HATE that I do that and with this story, I really am just enjoying writing it and I'm so glad that there are those who seem to be enjoying it, too. So seriously. THANK YOU!


	5. Cups

…

**Five.** Cups.

Lady had no objections when Sansa didn’t walk into Brighton Park that late afternoon. Instead, they walked along the street that ran parallel to the park. Sansa told herself to not look but as they neared the parking lot for the basketball courts, she found her steps slowing and she looked across the street to the park. There was still yellow crime scene taped around where she had been. That woman would never be “the body”. Even if Sansa didn’t know her name, the woman had still been a person and she had had a name and she had been _somebody_.

No one played games in the basketball courts. Even in this cold weather, kids – at least – would be there, playing a game of HORSE or something of the sort. But the courts were empty as was the dog park beyond that and no one occupied the walking trails either. Sansa knew that by next week, the tape would be gone and the park would become the main place of the neighborhood as it always was but right now, everyone was staying away. It would be forgotten soon enough. There might be stories – “Remember that body that was found in Brighton Park?” – but other than stories, this woman would become nothing more than something that had happened in their nice neighborhood.

Sansa’s one hand tightened around the loop of Lady’s leash and her other hand went to the strap around her neck where her pepper spray, whistle and phone hung. Her eyes looked around at the houses that were around her; wondering which one the murderer had come from. Detectives Snow and Lannister said that he must have lived close; or at least had come from a house close by. Sansa didn’t understand all of their detective work but she supposed that they were detectives for a reason and had been doing this long enough to know deduction and patterns.

Detective Snow. He had asked her to dinner and she had accepted; even after she told him that she had a boyfriend. He had been prepared to back away. He _had_ been backing away but Sansa had quickly said that she would go eat with him because she knew that she truly wanted to. She hadn’t thought about it at the time but she was thinking about it now. She had been with Harry for two years and she had been happy. She _thought_ she had been happy. Accepting a dinner invitation from a man she didn’t know showed her otherwise.

When had she stopped being happy with Harry? She thought he was going to propose. She thought he had gone to California to get a ring so he could ask her to marry him. Wasn’t that what she wanted? Didn’t she love Harry? Didn’t she want to be with him and marry him? Why did she agree to meet another man for dinner who wasn’t her boyfriend?

Sansa’s eyes were still fixed on the crime scene tape. She would bring flowers tomorrow.

She brought her phone up and looked to the screen. She had three separate text messages from different friends. Beth was asking her if she wanted to come over tonight and hang out. Everyone knew about the woman in the park but no one – not even her friends – knew that Sansa had been the one to find the woman. Sansa hadn’t wanted to tell any of them, weary of the endless questions that might come from that. Beth was one of her closest friends – she also a graduate student, working on her Masters in French – and Sansa knew that if she was to tell any of her friends, it would be Beth.

But she hadn’t and she didn’t want to. It should be about the woman in the park; not about the girl who had found the woman in the park.

She ignored the texts – for the moment – and called her dad’s office phone. It was just a little after four and she knew that Ned Stark would still be at work.

“Ned Stark,” he answered.

“Hi, dad.”

“Sansa! Is something wrong? Is everything alright?”

“I found another body,” she was able to joke though she immediately felt bad for it.

“Hilarious,” her dad’s dry tone responded to that and Sansa was actually able to laugh.

Giving a gentle tug on Lady’s leash, they both turned and began the walk home. “Would you be able to stop by my place on your way home from work? I was hoping I would be able to stay with you and mom for a little bit.”

“Of course you can. You know any of you kids can stay with us whenever you want.”

And though she had been expecting such an answer, Sansa smiled, nonetheless. “Thanks, dad. I’ll have my stuff and Lady ready. Do you mind coming to get her? I’m going out to eat and I don’t want to have to drive back and forth.”

Not to mention that she didn’t want to be leaving her apartment and loading up her car when it was dark out. As her dad always told her, there was no such thing as being too careful. Especially now. Sansa supposed she wouldn’t feel completely safe – once again – until Detectives Snow and Lannister caught the man responsible for what happened to that woman.

_If_ they caught him, a tiny voice in the back of Sansa’s mind added.

Upstairs in her top third-floor apartment, Sansa packed a bag for herself with enough changes of clothes to last a few days and then packed another bag with all of her school things and research. She also made sure Lady had everything the Siberian Huskey would need as well.

Sansa took a shower and she shaved her legs but she told herself it had _nothing_ to do with her dinner with Detective Snow. She had a boyfriend and even if she didn’t, it was just time to shave her legs. That was all.

Still with wet hair, wearing nothing but a towel, Sansa stood in front of her closet, deciding what to wear. She knew she should just put on the jeans and sweater she had already been wearing that day – and what Detective Snow had already seen her in – but she didn’t move towards them. Instead, she stood in front of her closet and wondered what she should wear to a diner for dinner with a man who wasn’t her boyfriend.

She jumped when her cell phone began to ring and she assumed it was her dad or Beth, asking about dinner – Sansa still had to text her back – but instead it was Harry.

And seeing his name on the screen, Sansa didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stared at it and for one brief moment, she imagined herself declining the call and going back to her closet. Why the Hell was she considering not picking up for her _boyfriend_? What the Hell was the matter with her? She was going out to dinner with a man who wasn’t Harry and now, she wasn’t going to even talk to Harry when he called? Why? Harry hadn’t done anything.

She was the one who…

Who what? She hadn’t done anything either. Dinner with Detective Snow wasn’t a date. She had found a body and he was working the case. She had found a body! She shouldn’t have to explain what she was doing because she wasn’t doing anything.

She hit the accept button as well as the speaker button.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted him.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m alright.”

She wasn’t. Could he tell? She was doing her best to hide it in her tone but did Harry know her well enough to hear it anyway? And if he couldn’t, what did that mean? Why was she questioning everything all of a sudden? Because of the woman in the park? What did that have to do with anything in regards to Harry? She loved Harry. She did. She. Did.

“How’s California?” She asked before Harry could question her; if he was going to.

“Good. It’s been great to be away from work, to be honest.” She could hear him smile and it made her want to smile, too, and yet, she couldn’t get her lips to move in that direction. “I’m going out with Marty and a few of the other guys tonight to a club in West Hollywood.”

Marty was one of Harry’s best friends from high school and he currently starred in a reality show. Seriously. One of those shows about beautiful twenty-somethings in LA, trying to get a big break for themselves, but currently, they worked in a restaurant. Sansa had gone with Harry the last time he had flown out to visit home and they had gone out with Marty one evening. The producers had done everything they could to get Sansa to sign for approval to appear on camera but Sansa had had no interest in it.

Harry had loved being on camera, knowing that the footage might make it on air and he would have a title: HARRY, Marty’s friend.

“That sounds like it will be a night of debauchery,” Sansa said, able to do so with a slight laugh. “Work has been so crazy for you though. You deserve it.”

“What are you up to tonight?” Harry asked once his own laugh at her comment faded.

For half a second, Sansa thought she would lie but then, she wondered why she should.

“I’m going to get something to eat with one of the detectives who is working on the woman’s case,” Sansa told him with all honesty.

She knew Harry wouldn’t be jealous. Another thing about Harry was he never seemed to ever get jealous. No matter how badly – and obviously – another guy was flirting with her at some party or another they went to, Harry just laughed and shrugged. In his opinion, Sansa was beautiful and _of course_ guys would be flirting with her. He couldn’t get jealous over all of them. And Sansa had always loved that; that he hadn’t cared.

She now realized that she would have liked him to show that he did care – just a little. And yes, getting jealous over some guy would be a stupid way to do that but it would still be a way.

But he wouldn’t about this and Sansa wouldn’t hold her breath. Why, all of a sudden, was she realizing all of these things about her relationship with Harry that bothered her? Had she truly been ignoring these things all along?

After they wished one another good-night and hung up, Sansa realized that neither of them had told the other that they loved them.

…

The diner across the street from the police station was called “Cups” and it was what Sansa would expect – a small place with booths, tables and swivel stools along the coffee counter. Her eyes scanned the room and it took her a few seconds to see that Detective Jon Snow had not yet arrived. There was a shorter man standing at the counter next to the front door with little hair and very bushy grey eyebrows.

“How many?” He asked and he spoke with a Greek accent, reaching for a menu from a stack.

“There will be two of us,” Sansa smiled at him as he smiled in return and showed her to a booth.

The menu was thick and she perused it as she waited. They had a little bit of everything and though it was just after five now, she knew she was leaning more towards breakfast. As she told Jon Snow, she hadn’t really eaten anything since she found the woman last night.

She still could hardly believe that that had just been last night. It felt like a thousand nights had passed since seeing her in the circle of yellow park light.

The door opened and she lifted her head. She smiled the instant she saw him and Detective Jon Snow smiled once he saw her as well. He spoke with the short man and then came to her. He had changed, too, she noted – out of his wrinkled clothes and into blue jeans and a red and black flannel shirt beneath his open coat. His hair, having been pulled back both times she had seen him, was now down and she saw the curls to it and the length past his ears.

She was glad she had changed into a different pair of jeans and one of her nicer sweaters.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said once he slid into the bench seat across from her.

“You’re not,” she shook her head, the smile still across her face. She wasn’t sure why she was smiling but she didn’t tell herself to stop. “I’ve needed the time to read this whole thing,” she said, picking up one corner of the menu and his smile widened.

She noted the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as it did. He had a beautiful smile.

“I have some good news,” Jon then told her.

Sansa sat up a little straighter and the breath seemed to pause in her lungs. “Yes?” Did they make an arrest already? Have they solved it?

“We found her name.”

“You did?” She still didn’t breathe.

“We’re looking for some family to contact but once we’ve done that, I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you,” she said on a rush of air. “Thank you. Was she…” she began to ask the question but she didn’t know how; didn’t know if she necessarily wanted an answer. And yet, on the other hand, she knew that it was something she needed to know. “Was Detective Lannister right? Was she… a prostitute?” She whispered that last word as if she couldn’t stand to even speak it.

He seemed to pause but then he visibly swallowed and gave a single nod. It seemed like he wished he could give her a different answer. “She was.”

“You’ll still try to find the person who killed her, won’t you?” The question flew from Sansa’s mouth, sounding desperate to her ears. “Just because she was a prostitute, you’ll still try to find whoever did that to her?”

“Of course I will,” Jon said. He stared into her eyes and his voice was quiet – gentle in a way – and yet, it was firm at the same time. Sansa looked into his eyes and she believed him.

A waitress appeared at their table then, setting two glasses of water down. “Do you know what you two want?” She pulled out her pad. Jon looked to Sansa, letting her know to go first.

“I will have the cream cheese Danish, a side of bacon and a vanilla milkshake.” She looked to Jon, who was smiling at her order, and she smiled, too.

Jon then took his turn. “Fried eggs – over-easy – cottage fries, bacon and a Coke.”

The waitress finished scribbling everything down. “You got it,” she smiled at them both and then left to go to put their order in.

“Would it be alright if I ask you something?” Jon asked. He lifted his water glass and took a small sip, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Of course,” Sansa readily agreed. She found herself excited that he had a question for her. Perhaps it was because she always seemed to have questions for him.

“Why uncontacted peoples?”

The question made her let out a laugh before she could stop it and the sound of it made Jon smile. She picked up her own water glass and took a sip. As she swallowed, it occurred to her that Harry had never asked her that question. Oh, he knew that she was studying uncontacted peoples – obviously he knew that – but he had never actually asked her why. And after that, another thought then struck her.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before,” she said out loud.

“No?”

“I think everyone just assumed that I had to choose something for my thesis so this is what I chose.” She set her water glass down. “Why uncontacted peoples?” She repeated the question and then took a moment to think of her answer. “Because they are so misunderstood. Because they choose to live a certain way and not the ways in which others deem to be the norms of society, they are judged. Their own countries – though some protect them – don’t even understand them and most don’t want to.” Something struck her then and she almost gasped.

“What is it?” Jon asked, having been listening to her every word closely and he saw the instant her expression changed.

She stared down at her paper placemat setting. “Like a prostitute,” she whispered.

Like a prostitute who was brutally murdered and dumped in a park like a piece of trash. A person most would rather just forget or pretend didn’t even exist in the first place.

She lifted her eyes to Jon, who was still watching her. He didn’t say anything and she was actually grateful for that. She needed time to think. Her mind was racing and she wondered if Daario had an open appointment when she could come see him tomorrow.

Sansa shook her head slightly, bringing herself back to the diner and to Jon. She gave him the smallest smile and Jon returned it with one of his own. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve just had an epiphany,” she told him and his smile grew.

“I can tell,” he replied and she heard herself laughing.

“Why did you become a homicide detective?” She asked.

“Well, first I became a police officer and then I became a homicide detective. I was twelve when I knew what I was going to do with my life. My mother…” it was his turn to pause and think of his answer. “She was dating a man. He wasn’t incredibly nice but he wasn’t the worst guy. I played basketball in junior high and he’d practice with me in the driveway. I remember him always taking us out to eat on Saturday nights. He was just the type who always let something piss him off. The smallest thing could piss him off.”

Sansa nodded. Her sister, Arya, wasn’t like that _exactly_ but it seemed, like some days, she woke up and was just determined to be angry at the world for whatever reason. It was more than just waking up on the wrong side of the bed. It was anger that no one knew where it came from. Thankfully, it didn’t appear often.

“I was spending the night at a friend’s house and I still don’t know what happened exactly but according to the detectives, and later, the district attorney, he and my mom got in a fight and he killed her.”

Sansa gasped, reeling back in her seat. She didn’t think she had _ever_ expected him to say such a thing. Jon nodded at her reaction.

“After that, I knew exactly what I was going to do.”

“I am so, so sorry,” Sansa said, leaning forward, into the table, and her hand reached out, covering his own. “I… and I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s alright,” Jon shook his head and he gave her a small smile to let her know that it truly was. His hand turned over and Sansa expected herself to pull her hand away once their palms touched, but she couldn’t bring herself to. “It’s part of my story. Nothing will be able to change that. I know what something like that does to a person though. It changes them forever.”

The waitress appeared with their food and their hands separated. Once she made sure they had everything, the waitress left them alone and Sansa looked down to her food. Her stomach rumbled at the sight. She honestly just wanted to pick up this cheese Danish with both hands and take the biggest bite out of it. It was round, almost the size of the small dessert plate, and it was mouth-watering. Could she do that in front of Jon? Why would it matter?

With that, Sansa did just that. She picked up the Danish with both hands and took a healthy bite. She felt no embarrassment for it. She was hungry.

Looking to Jon, he was digging into his own food and smiling.

He really was a handsome man and Sansa knew she shouldn’t be thinking that – because of Harry – but she couldn’t help it. She wondered what he thought when he looked at her.

“I’m going to be staying with my parents for a few days,” she said suddenly. She set the Danish down and picked up a napkin to wipe her fingers. “I’m scared, to be honest.” She brought her milkshake closer to her.

“I’m glad,” Jon said but then he shook his head rapidly. “I’m not glad that you’re scared-” Sansa was sipping her milkshake and nearly smiled. “-but I’m glad that you will get away from Brighton Park for a few days.”

“Why?” She set her milkshake down but instead of picking up something else to eat, her hands dropped heavily into her lap. Her stomach felt tight.

Jon looked around as if he thought someone might be eavesdropping on their conversation before his eyes went back to her. “I just want you to be safe. I don’t know if this woman is going to be the only victim or not and I have no idea if it has anything to do with it, but you and the victim share the same hair shade. It’s going to just be a coincidence. I know it. But I just want you to be safe, Sansa.”

Sansa swallowed. Being safe and feeling safe were two different things and she didn’t think she’d ever feel safe again. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! I am so in love with writing this story, I can't even explain it. 
> 
> Also - a side note. I do not live in a city and I do not know one so well, that I would feel comfortable writing it. I also love the state I live in but I actually can't imagine Jon and Sansa living here, too, so the name of the city and state this story takes place in has been unspecified on purpose.


	6. Investigating

…

**Six.** Investigating.

Ghost ran away three months earlier.

When Jon had to work a particularly long day or night – or oftentimes, both – Olly would go to Jon’s place and let the dog out for a little bit so he wasn’t cooped up for hours on end. Ghost was a good dog – Jon had spent time when he was a puppy, training him to be off-leash – and when Olly was in the driveway, skateboarding with a couple of his friends, Ghost stayed close, sniffing at everything and relieving himself.

But then, Jon wasn’t sure what happened. He must have gotten the scent of something because he took off. Olly and his friends tried to race after him to get him back but Ghost was too fast and he raced into the woods that were in their neighborhood. Even with the teenagers searching and then, calling Jon and Jon bringing a couple uniformed cops to help with the search, Ghost was nowhere to be found. Jon littered the neighborhood with reward posters but three months later and no one had come forward about having found him.

Jon hadn’t stopped looking for him but it had been three months and wherever Ghost was – Jon could feel that his dog was still alive – he could only hope that he was safe and getting enough food somehow.

After returning home from eating dinner with Sansa Stark, Jon wished he had a dog there to greet him and one he could take on a long walk around the neighborhood but he went into his carriage house, empty and dark, and Jon locked the front door for the night. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into a pair of sweatpants to sleep in and then collapsed on the couch. Turning on the television, he went to his Netflix account. It would be so easy to get sucked into a crime documentary or procedural television show but Jon made a conscious effort to avoid both types. He saw enough of that every day of his life and didn’t need it anymore than that.

He turned on an episode of “The Twilight Zone” and allowed himself to veg out.

He wondered what Sansa was doing at right this second. Did she like Netflix or was she more of a Hulu girl? Or did she not watch television and just spend her nights, reading?

He knew she shouldn’t be on his mind. He knew he couldn’t have anything with her. As he told Jaime, it would be unprofessional – not to mention that she had a boyfriend and therefore was extremely unavailable. Jon had lost count of how many times he had reminded himself of both of these facts during dinner with her.

Sansa was beautiful and that was what he first noticed about her – wasn’t that what everyone first noticed about people? – but last night, spending time with her outside of a crime scene or a police station, Jon found her to also be intelligent and kind. It wasn’t to say any of the girls he had dated were stupid – and he and Sansa were NOT dating in any sense of the word – but the girls he dated just weren’t interested in certain things. Actually, after interviewing Sansa that first time, he had gone and looked up exactly what anthropology was.

With a heavy sigh, Jon muted the television – he wasn’t really watching it anyway – and closing his eyes, he sank his head into the couch cushion behind him.

He was tired and he missed his dog and he needed to stop thinking about a girl who had a boyfriend. They went out to one meal – a completely innocent meal – and though he still couldn’t really understand why a girl with a boyfriend would meet another man for dinner, it had still been completely innocent. Jon had worked hard at keeping it as such. He hadn’t flirted with her or said anything that could be misconstrued as an innuendo. They had just talked and gotten to know one another. There was nothing wrong with two people getting to know one another.

He knew she hadn’t seen anything in the park. Whoever had murdered Ros Wallace might have been frenzied in their attack of her but they had been smart enough to dump the body away from the actual kill scene and do it at a time when the Brighton Park was pretty quiet. But why dump the body in such a highly public place at all? Why not an alley? Why one of the most popular parks in one of the nicest neighborhoods in all of the city?

Because whoever killed Ros wanted her to be found and they wanted to see it when she was.

He didn’t tell Sansa this but there was another reason that he was glad she was staying at her parents’ house. Whoever dumped Ros’s body really might have watched Sansa find her. They might have gotten a really good look at Sansa and figured out that she lived in the neighborhood. Not everyone owned a Siberian Husky and Sansa would take Lady for walks often. It would be easy to find out where she lived and though he had no proof of it, he was just being overly cautious and looking at Ros’s murder from all possible angles.

It probably meant nothing but maybe, the shared red hair might mean _something_.

His eyes opened to a ringing phone and he found himself still on the couch except now, he was laying down, stretched across the cushions. The television had shut itself off and through the curtains, he could see the sky already the faintest shade of grey. Dawn was here and he had been asleep for hours.

Slightly discombobulated for a moment, Jon then pulled himself from the couch and found his cell phone where he had tossed it onto the table in the kitchen.

Jaime.

“Yeah?”

“Forensic report came in. I’m picking you up in twenty minutes.”

Jon let out a yawn even though he didn’t feel tired in the least. He began moving towards his bedroom to try and find something to wear. “You remember who I’m going to talk to this morning, right?”

“You talk to him. I’m going to just be looking around.”

“Without a warrant.”

“I won’t need a warrant to stand in a hallway.”

Jon sighed heavily. “Fine.”

After brushing his teeth and taking the time to trim his beard, he put in his contacts and pulled his hair back into a knot to keep it off his face for the day. In the bedroom, he found a pair of black pants that weren’t too wrinkled and a black button down shirt.

Just as he stepped outside and locked the front door behind him, he heard the back door of the Steward house open.

“Jon!” Anne called out to him. “I have leftover muffins!”

Jon smiled as he came down the flight of stairs and went down the driveway to the back of the house. “Good morning, Mrs. Steward.”

Anne’s immediate response to that was a smack on the front of his shoulder.

“I thought I told you that that technically counts as assaulting an officer.”

“And I thought I told you that the next time you call me Mrs. Steward, I would smack you.”

Jon just smiled and took the plastic container she held out to him. “Thank you, _Anne_.”

Taking the container, he went down the rest of the driveway and stood at the end of it, waiting for Jaime. He peeled back the corner of the container and brought it up to his nose. Oh God, he loved when Anne had breakfast catering jobs. Today, she had given him a couple of blueberry muffins and a couple of chocolate chip muffins. Oh, God, he also loved chocolate chip muffins.

He immediately took one out from the container and took a bite that was way too big for his mouth but he didn’t care because Anne’s chocolate chip were fantastic. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone walking up the sidewalk and he turned, almost choking right there. It was Sansa, with Lady leading on her leash, and she was walking right towards him. She was frowning a little, confused at his presence, and Jon knew exactly how she felt. It was like seeing your neighborhood Priest or your math teacher in the grocery store; someone who was removed from their usual surroundings and in a place you never expected to see them.

He managed to swallow without killing himself and she and Lady stopped in front of him. He even managed to give her a smile while he was very aware of how fast his heart was beating. Just from the sight of her. Her hair was down and she was wearing these jeans that looked painted on along with a pair of black boots and a black hooded toggle coat that went down to her knees.

“Good morning,” he said and she had that crinkle between her eyebrows as she looked at him.

“Good morning,” she remembered to smile. “What are you…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

With the muffin still in his hand, he pointed up the Steward driving. “I live there,” he answered the unfinished question and Sansa followed his finger to the carriage house. “What are you?” He then asked, somewhat teasing her, and Sansa’s smile came easier.

“My parents’ house,” she said, pointing back to where she had been walking from, and Jon followed her finger to the house, two down from the Steward house.

“No shit,” he said before he could tell himself not to.

Sansa let out a laugh and gave a nod. “Yes shit,” she teased and he grinned widely.

“Good morning, Lady,” he reminded himself to greet the Siberian Husky, who stood there, wagging her tail with excitement at being acknowledged and Jon wished he had his hands free so he might have been able to give her a good and proper scratch. Looking to Sansa, she was looking at him, smiling as she did. “Would you like a muffin?” He asked, remembering the container in his arm. “The woman who I rent from, she owns a catering company and she gives me leftovers if she has any.”

“Steward Catering,” she nodded knowingly. “She catered my college graduation party. Mrs. Steward makes the most amazing stuffed mushroom caps.”

“I’ll ask her about those.” Jon made a mental note to himself to do just that and he watched as Sansa smiled, closing the space between them. She looked at the three remaining muffins and chose the other chocolate chip one for herself.

“Thank you,” she smiled softly at him. “So many breakfast pastries around you. The Danish last night and now a muffin this morning…” her cheeks turned pink and Jon wondered if it was from the cold of the morning air or if she was thinking of her boyfriend then and feeling guilty. “I can’t believe the odds of this. In all of the neighborhoods of the city, my parents and you just happen to live two houses apart.”

“I’m never around and have no idea who my neighbors are,” Jon felt the need to explain.

Sansa just smiled though as if wondering why he thought that she would think something else.

They were standing close together, Jon noted; the container of muffins between them. And with this close proximity, Jon stared in her eyes and noted just how blue they were. Last night, in the diner, there had obviously been a table between them but the lights hadn’t allowed him to fully see just the right shade of her eyes. This morning though, as it grew lighter around them, Jon was staring into her blue eyes and couldn’t look away.

God, she was beautiful. It actually scared him a little because people _weren’t_ supposed to look like this. She should have at least had a pimple or a stray facial hair or _something._ Even models were airbrushed. What would the photographer possibly airbrush on her?

“Can I ask you something?” Sansa asked suddenly and he was relieved to be honest.

He had been staring at her like some pervert and was thankful for something to snap him out of it. She had a boyfriend. She had found the body of a woman who’s murder he was now investigating. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND! All of these were very good reasons to stop staring at her and focus on her being nothing more than a possible witness.

“Of course.” He subtlety took a step back from her and took another – _smaller_ – bite of his muffin. No matter how he saw this woman, he didn’t necessarily want to choke in front of her.

“Do you know Gary Ridgway?”

“A little bit out of my jurisdiction considering it was across the country in Washington, but yes, I know who he is.”

“I was doing research last night and his name popped up.”

“Perfect bedtime reading,” Jon noted and smiled a little when she rolled her eyes at him.

“He was convicted of killing 49 women and teenage girls though he claimed he killed as many as 71. Why did it take the police so long to even realize that there was a serial killer?” She asked.

Jon knew that if he shoved more muffin into his mouth instead of answering her question, it would be pretty obvious that he didn’t actually want to answer her question.

He looked at her and sighed softly. “You know why.”

“That’s not a good reason.”

“No, it’s not but that’s the answer. If your epiphany last night is about what I think it’s about, you’re going to have to prepare yourself for a lot of reasons that aren’t good.”

Sansa’s fingers tightened around the loop of Lady’s leash. “This is something I need to write about,” she said and it was as if she wasn’t only convincing him but herself as well; not that she had to convince him.

First as a street cop in a patrol car and then, working his way up to detective, he had seen plenty in his time on the force; things he didn’t agree with but things he couldn’t do anything about. Prostitutes were vulnerable and easy prey. They were – along with the homeless – on the outer fringes of society and many people would rather pretend they didn’t exist at all. There were the few who tried to help them but for the most part, they were a dirty part of the country that many shrugged their shoulders and turned their heads away if something happened to. Serial killers loved prostitutes for those reasons and when a serial killer was caught, it was the serial killer who was remembered; never the women who he killed because why would they be worth remembering?

“I think this is something you need to write about,” Jon agreed completely.

Sansa seemed to breathe at his words and a smile began to appear across her face as she looked to his face. “If I need help… would you be able to help me?”

She has a boyfriend, Snow! He screamed this at himself at the top of his lungs.

He looked into Sansa’s eyes and nodded because he couldn’t get himself to do the opposite.

“I will.”

…

Jon read over the report as Jaime drove, munching away on his own blueberry muffin. No wonder Jaime wanted to come with him as he talked with Petyr Baelish. There had been white cotton fibers found on Ros’s body – the same that would come from a bedsheet someone would wrap a body in – as well as green carpet fibers.

“Do you know how many people have white bedsheets?” Jon asked him. “Hell, I have white cotton bedsheets.”

“Great. Where were you two nights ago around ten o’clock?” Jaime threw him a grin.

“And Baelish is a scum demon but if he had this green carpet in his house, he wouldn’t have ripped it up already? And you’re not going to get permission to look around his house, without a warrant, to see if he has this carpet still there.”

“There’s no harm in looking around _casually_ ,” Jaime shrugged, not arguing with anything that Jon had said because there was no argument to be had. “And he didn’t do it anyway.”

“No?”

“Doc Tarly said that she died just minutes before our dog-walker found her. I don’t buy that that guy was able to kill her, wrap her up, get her to his trunk, get her to the park and dump her all within minutes. You’ve seen the guy. A weight set is not his close personal friend.”

Jon went back to reading the report. He had been thinking the same thing. Petyr Baelish was on the list of people of interest – without a doubt – but Jon didn’t think he was the one to actually kill Ros. Jaime was right. For one, Petyr wasn’t strong enough to move the body. And what he and Jaime had said last night still held true. Petyr Baelish would never get his hands dirty.

“Do you think Ros had a visitor and he wound up killing her there? So Baelish wouldn’t have been involved but he would be helping after the fact,” Jon thought out loud.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jaime popped the last bit of muffin into his mouth and Jon closed the report.

Petyr Baelish lived in a renovated Queen Anne house and where many of the renovated houses had been broken up into apartments, Baelish lived in one that remained a single home. It was a buttercream yellow – three floors with a round turret in the front right corner and a wraparound front porch. Jon hated that Baelish lived in a yellow house because this was a house people would see from the street and say that it was so warm and beautiful looking. And Baelish had done that on purpose. No one would look at this house and think a pimp lived there.

They had just climbed the front steps to the porch when the front door opened and the man stood there, giving them a smile that made the back of Jon’s neck crawl.

“Detectives,” he greeted them as if they were the dearest of friends.

Jaime was silent next to him and that would be for the best. Jaime could say something without thinking about it and it would just make this whole visit a waste of time. Baelish would be polite and cold and not reveal a damn thing. Not that he would _purposely_ reveal anything but Jon could watch the man and hear what he didn’t say.

“We’re sorry to just be dropping by like this,” Jon began, his voice hard but polite. “But we were hoping you could give us a minute, Mr. Baelish.”

“For two of our fine city’s police Detectives? You can have two minutes. Please come in.”

Jon and Jaime followed the man inside and both immediately looked to the floor. Hardwood with a large ornate Oriental rug laid down. No green. They followed him into the living room where again, no green carpet. Hardwood ran throughout the entire first floor – from what Jon could see – with large area rugs every few feet. None of them had green in them.

Cutting right to it, Jon reached into his file folder. “We need to show you something, Mr. Baelish, and I admit that it is a bit graphic.”

“The body in the park, I take it. I read that you haven’t identified it yet.”

“We have. We would like you to confirm and then, if you’re able, you could come down to the morgue to make an official identification.”

Petyr frowned a bit at that. “I’m not sure how I’d be able to help or how you think I know who the body was.”

Jon didn’t say anything. He pulled out a picture that Sam had taken of Ros, from the shoulders up, after the autopsy and she had been cleaned. He extended it towards Petyr, watching the man carefully. He knew that Jaime was doing the same.

“Ros,” Petyr whispered as soon as he saw the picture. He didn’t make a move to look at the picture and instead, after just a second, he looked away from it again.

Jon could almost think that the man didn’t want to see his own handy work and what he had done to the woman but still, Jon didn’t think this man was responsible for this. He almost looked… upset. Ridiculous, Jon knew, because that would mean that Petyr Baelish had any sort of feelings like any other human being.

“We need a list of clients she met with two nights ago. Did she stay in or go out to meet them?” Jon asked, reaching into his inside coat pocket for his notebook.

“I’m afraid I can’t release the names of my customers. You gentlemen know that.”

Jaime snatched the picture from Jon’s hand and held it up directly in front of Petyr’s face. Again, the man kept his head turned away and wouldn’t look at it.

“Besides, Ros had the night off two nights ago. I like to treat my girls like actual employees and they only work five days a week. Ros had the night off.”

“Do you have any idea if she had any plans?” Jon asked, writing that down.

“Ros lived here and I was her employer but I was not her babysitter, Detective. What my girls get up to on their nights off, that is their business. All I can tell you is that she went out for dinner with a friend. She didn’t come home after that but again, Ros is – _was_ – an adult and I didn’t worry. I just assumed she had gone out to a club and had spent the night with either this friend or she had found a man to fill her hours.”

Jon lifted his eyes to look at him. “What’s this friend’s name?” 

“A former girl of mine before she quit almost three years ago. I know Ros has remained close with her. Shae.”

Both Jon and Jaime’s heads snapped up at that and Jon cut a quick glance to his partner but Jaime was staring at the man in front of them.

Petyr began to smile. “That’s right, Detective. It slipped my mind for just a moment. Shae Lannister. Your sister-in-law.”

…

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50854600186/in/dateposted/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to those reading and commenting on this one!
> 
> Sansa talks with Daario in the next chapter and just so happens to take a walk past Jon's carriage house.


	7. Progress

…

**Seven.** Progress.

“What do you think?” Sansa asked once she had laid it all out for him.

Daario, standing at the Keurig coffee maker he had in his office, was waiting for his coffee to finish brewing and with his hands in his pockets, he was looking at the wall in front of him. He didn’t say anything. Sansa sat in the chair in front of his desk and waited, holding her breath. He stirred in cream and sugar and as he returned to his desk, he took a sip, still not saying anything. When he lowered himself in his chair, the phone on his desk began to ring and he answered it.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted and Sansa knew that he was obviously talking to Silvia, his wife.

He paused to listen to whatever she was saying, sipping his coffee as he did. He then answered – in Spanish – and Sansa wasn’t the best at that language. She was working on it but Daario spoke it fluently and far above her skillset. In high school, students had the choice of taking Spanish, German or French and for whatever reason, all five of the Stark children had chosen to take German. Throughout her undergrad and now, graduate school, as her interest in uncontacted peoples took root, and anticipating going to South America one day, Sansa had begun to learn Spanish but she definitely needed more practice.

Daario said something quickly and ended it with her name so Sansa could deduce what he was talking with Silvia about. He then lifted his eyes and smiled. “Sil says hi,” he reported.

“Hi, Silvia!” Sansa happily returned and Daario still smiling, resumed speaking with his wife.

“ _Si. Te amo.”_ Daario hung up the phone and picked up his cup for another sip of coffee.

He was quiet once again and Sansa sat across from him, staring at him, and holding her breath.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? Did it really take _this_ long for him to say what he was thinking? If he thought it was a terrible idea, he should come out and say that rather than being absolutely silent and letting Sansa begin to have a panic attack right in his office.

“I know it’s a change…” she began to say so the silence could be filled with _something_.

Daario smiled a little at that. “A complete 180, yes. But…” he took another sip of coffee. “It’s actually really not. Yes, it’s a little different than finding an uncontacted tribe in South America but, I suppose you could consider prostitutes to be this country’s uncontacted peoples. There’s all sorts of opinions and assumptions made about them but what’s really the truth? You would need to make some contacts, of course.”

Sansa exhaled a deep breath. “So, you think this could work?” She just wanted to be absolutely positive that Daario understood – not just as her advisor but as a fellow anthropologist.

“I think this could be amazing if you approach it correctly. Contacts. You have any?”

Jon – obviously – immediately entered her mind. He said that he would help her if she needed it and she had every intention of taking him up on the offer. She knew that Daario meant that she would have to speak with several – _many_ – prostitutes in order to write a thesis paper on the subject but Jon was in her mind and he stayed there.

He had been there so much since dinner last night. Actually, he hadn’t left. He had taken residence in her mind and had seemed to camp out without leaving. She knew she should feel guilty about it. She had a boyfriend and having a man on her mind who wasn’t Harry was wrong. She knew that and reminded herself of that but honestly, she didn’t feel guilty. And _that_ made her feel guilty because she and Harry were together and had been together for two years. They lived together. She was fairly certain that the next step for them was marriage.

But Detective Jon Snow was on her mind and he had showed her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And not only didn’t she feel guilty for that but she also didn’t hate that he was there.

She knew what that meant but she wasn’t completely ready to tell herself to do something about it. It was just… _two years_ with someone and it couldn’t just be finished with a snap of the fingers. Or could it be? Could she and Harry have just a complete and clean break without fighting or drama? She actually couldn’t imagine Harry fighting – not with her or for her. In two years, they actually had never had a fight. Anything Sansa said or anything she wanted to do, Harry just nodded, always in agreement.

She didn’t know what to do. She had just met Detective Snow and it was ridiculous to imagine breaking up with her boyfriend of two years just because she couldn’t stop thinking about another man whom she didn’t even know. He hadn’t mentioned it but Jon could have a girlfriend and Sansa was going to do what? Going to breakup with her boyfriend for another man while she and that other man hadn’t even had anything happen between them that would signal that something _could_ happen between them?

“Do you know that body in Brighton Park they found the night before last?” Sansa asked, bringing herself back to Daario and their meeting.

“Sure,” he gave a nod as he settled back in his chair, bringing his coffee cup with him. “You live around there, don’t you?”

Sansa took a deep breath. “I was walking my dog in the park and I was the one who found her. The woman. The _body_. I’m the one who called 911.”

“Jesus, what? Are you serious?” Daario sat straight up, almost spilling his coffee in the process. He stared at her with slightly wide eyes and she didn’t answer his question because that wasn’t exactly what she would joke about. “Of course you’re serious.” He thought on that for another minute and then shook his head slightly. “Was she a prostitute?”

Sansa nodded.

Daario thought on that next. He sipped his coffee and then sighed. “It’s a really good idea for a thesis, Sansa. And it always helps to have a personal experience you can use while writing it.”

“I met a detective at the crime scene and I’ve spoken to him a couple of times. I asked if he would help and he said that he would.” She made it sound as cut-and-dry as that but Daario didn’t need to know more about Jon Snow than that.

“That’s a start,” he gave a nod and found a pen amidst the mess on his desk. He found a piece of paper next and began writing notes to himself. “And prostitutes. You’ll have to find one who will talk to you. Preferably more than one.”

Sansa swallowed and nodded. She had absolutely no idea how she was going to get that done but she would. Hopefully, that was something else Jon would be able to help her with. Maybe he knew someone who would actually be willing to talk to her. They would have to know that she wasn’t judging them or she wasn’t trying to save them. She was sure they had heard plenty of promises throughout their lives and she didn’t want them to think she was lying to them. She wanted to study them – not as if they were some strange creature or specimen; but because she wanted to understand them and in turn, help others understand them as well.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sansa agreed and opened her own notebook to begin making notes to herself. “And, um, what do you think if I… there are a lot of people who kill prostitutes. What if I brought a crime angle into it? I’m not exactly sure how yet, but…” she trailed off for a moment and lifted her hand to scratch her forehead. “I feel like that’s something that has to be written about. The murdering of prostitutes is a direct result of how society views them.”

“Go for it,” Daario nodded, still writing. “I want to see where this can take you.”

_I want to see where this can take you._

Sansa wanted to see, too.

“Alright. I hate to cut this short but I have another student coming in. My office hours aren’t just for the grad students.”

Sansa let out a laugh, knowing what he meant. A couple of the classes Daario taught were for the undergrads – Introduction to Anthropology and once a week, he had various freshmen and sophomores coming into his office, bothering him about makeup exams and late papers and complaining that they didn’t understand something specific.

She gathered her things and stood up, putting on her coat and scarf and then slinging her bag onto her shoulder. “Thank you, Daario. I’ll keep you posted.”

“You better. I expect a progress update next week.”

“You got it,” she gave him another smile. She turned and headed for the door – just as a young man was coming in. “Oh, excuse me,” she smiled politely at him.

He took a step back so she could pass by and he gave her a smile. She didn’t know why but something about his smile made her feel cold all of a sudden.

“Excuse me, miss,” he tilted his head to her.

“Come in, Ramsay,” Daario said, gesturing him forward with his hand.

Sansa continued down the hallway, heading for the stairs, her mind already racing. Daario wanted a progress update in a few days and she had to be sure she had something to show him.

…

Every night after dinner, Ned Stark heated up a last cup of coffee from the pot Catelyn brewed each morning and then he went into the family room where he sat in his armchair and watched an episode or two of whatever television show he was working himself through. At the moment, he was making his way through the seasons of _Justified_.

Sometimes, Catelyn joined him but sometimes, she would stay in the living room and read a book or watch one of her movies on the Hallmark channel. She knew his time in the evening was precious to him; so he could unwind after a day at work. Rickon was the only of their children to still live at home – still in high school – but tonight, he had gone out with a couple of friends to the coffee shop where a lot of the high school kids hung out at. And now, another of their children was back home.

Sansa, with Lady, was staying with them. She didn’t know how long she would be staying but Ned and Catelyn didn’t care about that. They were just happy – and relieved – to have her where they could see her. Ned still could feel the fear that squeezed his heart when they saw the news about that murdered woman and hadn’t been able to get a hold of Sansa on the phone.

If it was up to Ned, he’d have Sansa stay with them forever but he knew that it wouldn’t work like that. Sansa was an adult with her own apartment and life and something terrible had happened to her but she was a Stark. She wasn’t going to live the rest of her life – afraid.

“What are you doing?” Ned asked as he came into the family room and saw Sansa already there. She was standing at the section of the entertainment unit where he and Catelyn had their music – a mix of records and CDs.

“What’s this?” Sansa asked, holding up a CD so he could see.

_Heartworn Highways._ Ned smiled. “Outlaw country. It was popular during the 1970s. Take honkytonk, rockabilly, country and rock and blend it all together and that’s what that is. What made you pick that one?”

“I was looking to see if you had any Kinks music,” she said. “Do you?”

“I don’t want you listening to that,” Ned said in his “dad” tone. Sansa had told them about that night – what she and Lady walked on and the song she heard; how she went to go talk to those two detectives about it. “You’ve heard enough of it, haven’t you?”

Sansa looked as if she wanted to argue about that but after a moment, she sighed softly. “I know. I don’t want to hear it. But I can’t get it out of my head.”

Ned set his coffee cup down on the coffee table and came to Sansa, sidestepping Lady because she was sprawled out on the floor, chewing on her rope toy and she wasn’t going to move for him. He took the CD from Sansa’s hand and slipped it into the stereo. He skipped ahead a few tracks and one of his favorite songs began to play then; he making sure it wasn’t too loud so it wouldn’t disturb Catelyn. She didn’t exactly love outlaw country.

  
Sansa stood there, listening to it, and a smile crept across her face. “I like it. I think.”

“Of course you do. You’re my daughter,” Ned smiled, too.

Sansa listened to the song as Ned went to his chair and sat down, taking his coffee cup with him. When the track ended, the next began and Sansa turned it a bit lower before going and sitting in the chair next to Ned’s – a table and lamp between them.

“Can I ask you something?” Sansa asked.

“Of course.”

“Well, it’s not really asking. It’s more like… a statement.”

“Alright.”

“I don’t miss Harry. And I feel awful because I don’t miss him and I know that I should but I don’t and I can’t make myself miss him.”

Ned sat on that for a moment. He knew that this was something she would usually go to Catelyn about. It was just how it was. Sansa had always been closer to her mother and a part of Ned, he admitted to himself, was almost relieved because Sansa was his daughter; a true daughter. Yes, Arya was obviously his daughter, too, but she and Sansa were nothing alike. Sansa had always been more tuned in with her feminine side than Arya and sometimes, Ned admitted that he had no idea how to have a daughter.

But despite all of that, he also felt something of an excitement that she would come and talk with him about this. He had no idea what he was going to say but he was still willing to try.

He didn’t hate Harry. He wasn’t crazy about him but what father actually would like the guy who was living with his daughter? But Harry was a nice enough guy with a good job and if he and Sansa were ever to get married, Ned knew that the guy would be able to take care of Sansa. But marriage definitely wasn’t in their future cards if Sansa wasn’t even missing him. And _that_ made Ned a little excited, too, though he hid that far beneath the surface.

“Well,” he finally spoke, Sansa staring at him, waiting for him to. “That statement kind of says it all, doesn’t it?” He looked to her as she sat on the edge of the chair, turned towards him. “That’s how I actually knew I loved your mom. We had been dating for almost a year and when I went even a day without seeing her, I missed her. So, you not missing Harry and you knowing that you don’t miss Harry, that’s a strong statement.”

He wasn’t sure if that was what Catelyn would tell her but to Ned, it seemed like that was pretty much the only thing to say and from Sansa’s silence – and the look of pensiveness across her face – she was thinking, seriously, on his words.

He didn’t say anything else. From her statement, he knew Sansa was halfway there. She just had to get the rest of the way by herself and she was a very smart girl. She would.

Sansa then seemed to snap herself out of it and exhaled a deep breath. “I’m going to take Lady for one more walk and then I’m going to bed.”

“You’re working at the bank tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure Lady can’t just go out in the backyard?”

Lady had still been chewing at her rope toy but she lifted her head at that and turned to look at both Sansa and Ned; as if she understood perfectly what was being said and she didn’t care for it.

“I’ll be okay. Lady will protect me.” Sansa stood up and leaned down, kissing the top of Ned’s head. “Do you mind if I take this CD? I’d like to listen to the rest of it.”

“Of course. Do you have your pepper spray and whistle?”

“Always. Come on, Lady.” Sansa said as she first went to the stereo turn the music off and Lady stood up, shaking herself off, and trotting after Sansa as she left the family room. She stopped in the doorway and looked back to Ned. “Thanks, dad.”

Ned smiled to himself and sipped his coffee before turning on the television.

…

Sansa found herself standing at the end of the Steward house driveway and she had _no_ idea what she was doing there. Looking up, past the Steward catering van, the garage was a separate building that sat behind the house and above the garage, Sansa saw the apartment. She also saw the lights on in the apartment, behind the drawn shades.

She looked down to Lady, who looked up to her. “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she told the dog, who just swept her tail back and forth, clearly waiting for Sansa to make a decision.

She was stalking him. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and now, she was at the end of his driveway, debating whether or not she should go and knock on his door. _Of course_ she shouldn’t go knock on his door. She should finish walking Lady around the block, go back home, and get herself ready for bed. She was due to be at the bank at eight tomorrow and was working a full day. She was then going to come home and study for her classes as well as start researching for her brand new thesis topic. She had plenty to do without going to see a man she didn’t even know. He was busy, solving a woman’s _murder_ , for goodness sakes!

“Lady!” Sansa hissed after her when the Siberian Husky seemed tired of just standing there and seemed to force Sansa into making a decision by heading up the driveway. Lady could be quite strong when she decided to be and even with Sansa using both hands and pulling on her, Lady wasn’t having it and she kept pulling her right to the stairs of the apartment above the garage. The dog, somehow, knew exactly where they were going.

Sansa looked up to the front door, feeling her heart hammering quickly in her chest. Why was she here? What would she possibly say when Jon answered the door? What if he wasn’t alone?

Go home, Sansa! Go home!

Lady, once again, was apparently not having that and began going up the steps, dragging Sansa with her. Halfway up the stairs and Sansa saw one of the shades move in the window and she saw that it was Jon, peeking out.

A moment later, the front door opened.

“Sansa?”

“Hi!” She instantly cringed. She sounded like an idiot and looked like a psycho, just showing up here at six o’clock at night like she had any business whatsoever being here.

Thankfully, Jon’s face revealed nothing even though she knew that that was probably exactly what he was thinking about her right now.

“Is everything alright?” He asked.

“I was taking Lady for a walk and she kind of led me right here.” Not exactly a lie. “I’m sorry to be bothering you and just showing up like this.”

“You’re not bothering me. I was just about to eat dinner.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder, and Sansa held her breath, prepared for him to tell her that he and his girlfriend – because surely, this man had a girlfriend even if he did ask Sansa out to eat just last night – were about to eat dinner. But then he looked back to Sansa and she did her best to ignore her hammering heart. She needed to say something else to get herself the Hell out of here.

“Would you and Lady like to come in?” Jon then asked her.

“Yes,” the answer flew from her mouth without thought. “If you’re sure…” she then said, giving him an out in case he was just being polite. From what little she knew of him, Detective Jon Snow seemed to be a very polite man.

“Come on in,” he smiled and her heart sped up even more.

Lady again took the lead and pulled Sansa up the rest of the steps and Jon still smiled and he held the door open wider for both of them. Sansa gave him a smile as she passed and stepped into his apartment for the first time. He smelled nice – like a blanket warm from being left out in the sun.

She almost shook her head at herself. She had a boyfriend! She doubted Harry was smelling women and thinking that he wanted to close his eyes so he could just smell them all night. God, what if he _was_ doing that? No, Harry wouldn’t cheat. He had never cheated on her – had never even come close – and here she was, smelling another man who wasn’t her boyfriend and hardly thinking of her boyfriend at all.

She was a terrible person and yet, when Jon smiled at her and welcomed her into his apartment, Sansa, with Lady, had no problem walking over the threshold.

…

The song Ned plays for Sansa - if anyone is interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! I am so happy (and relieved) that this story is being liked! Next chapter, we will have Jon speaking with Shae and Sansa later visiting him in his home.


	8. Diving Deeper

…

**Eight.** Diving Deeper.

Technically, Jaime shouldn’t come with him to talk to Shae since they were family and if this case ever went to trial, it could give the defense even the slightest bit of advantage – claiming the police investigation was biased, therefore tainted – but Jaime was coming anyway.

“I’ll leave the room,” he promised.

Jon tried to argue. “A lawyer could easily just throw that right back at us. Did Detective Lannister _really_ leave the room?”

“So pull out your phone and video the whole thing. Show them I’m not in the room if anyone comes back, asking us about it.”

Jon stared at him. “Don’t make me do this.” He shook his head and Jaime stared at him, his jaw clenching for a moment. “I don’t want to but you’re going to make me. I can feel it.”

“You wouldn’t dare, Snow.”

“Captain!” Jon called out and ducked his head as Jaime brought his hand back to slap him across the back of it.

“What?” Captain Robert Baratheon barked out from his office.

“Detective Lannister is fucking with my investigation!”

Jaime picked up his entire cup of pens from his desk and threw it at him, Jon now trying not to laugh as he side-stepped out of the way.

“What?” Baratheon appeared in the doorway of his office.

He was a large man – large around the middle – mainly because he liked a drink (or five) after his workday and he ate either Arby’s or Taco Bell just about every day for lunch. Back in the day, he had been a Hell of a police officer. Young and fit, he had been held in high esteem for every superior officer he had worked under. He worked his way up through the ranks and as he got older, he let himself go – in more ways than one. He was still a cop but he was part of the “brass” now. He ran the Homicide Department and his one and only concern was his department’s clearance rate. The higher-ups in the department only cared about clearance rates because that affected their statistics and budgets.

Jon knew that he needed to solve this murder in the next couple of days before Baratheon pulled him off of it and have him work on the next one. Murders of prostitutes rarely cleared and Jon’s boss wouldn’t want him wasting his time on it. Jon couldn’t let Ros go into a box, filed away, to never be looked at it. He wanted to solve this one – and not just because of another certain redhead who was involved with it.

The person who had murdered Ros – who had done that level of violence to her – it wouldn’t surprise Jon if this was just the start. Maybe nothing more would happen for a year or two but he wouldn’t be surprised if another body _did_ turn up, eventually, cut up just the way Ros had been. Whoever had done this to her, there was a very high chance that this unknown person was just getting themselves started.

He couldn’t prove that, of course. If the Captain asked him for any indication that this could be the start of a serial something, Jon would have nothing to provide except a gut feeling he had and Captain Baratheon didn’t give a shit about gut feelings. Gut feelings didn’t clear murders.

A younger Robert Baratheon, before he was in charge, would have cared. From the stories Jon had heard of him, the man would have leapt at the chance to help Jon if he so much as even whiffed out a possible killer. But that would have been years before and it didn’t matter now.

“Lannister! Snow! Get in here!” Baratheon bellowed.

Jon almost fell forward when Jaime shoved him from behind but he caught himself and went into the Captain’s office, sitting down in one of the chairs and Jaime plopping down in the other one.

Behind his desk, on the bookshelf, Captain Baratheon had three pictures of his three children – Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. There was another picture of him and the children all together. He also had no pictures of his wife. It was none of Jon’s business and Jaime didn’t talk about it but from what Jon gathered, Jaime’s sister, Cersei, and the Captain didn’t have the best marriage. In fact, they hardly had a marriage between them at all. It was an open one with both able to do whatever the Hell they wanted but they stayed married purely for image and politics.

“Update. Now,” Baratheon said, reaching into his desk and pulling out a pack of M&Ms he had bought from the vending machine in the break room.

“Our victim was out to dinner with her friend the night she died and I have to go talk with her this morning and see if she knows our victim’s last movements,” Jon answered and then paused, knowing he had to say the name but still hesitating all the same. “Shae.”

Baratheon paused as a green M&M was halfway to his mouth. He looked to Jon and then to Jaime. “You can’t go with him,” he said firmly.

“I’ll sit in the car-”

“I said no. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Lannister,” Baratheon frowned before looking to Jon again.

In his chair, Jaime slouched down and grumbled something under his breath. Baratheon couldn’t care less about his brother-in-law’s pouting as he looked back to Jon.

“Does Shae know something?”

“I won’t know until I talk to her but Baelish was no help whatsoever.”

Baratheon snorted and popped the candy into his mouth. “Jaime, you’re back in rotation. You can’t help anymore with this case and Snow, I’m sorry to say, that that means you’re on your own for the rest of the investigation.”

“Oh, come on!” Jaime exploded. “That’s bullshit! So I know Shae! Who gives a shit?”

“Any court of law who would just love to paint this department as the sort who inserts ourselves into investigations. Perhaps planting evidence or coercing witnesses to know something that they actually don’t. No. Any first-year law student will tell you the same. Now get out. I need to talk to Snow.”

Jaime and Jon exchanged glances – Jaime’s fury obvious on his face as he stood up and left the office, grumbling something further. Jon then looked back to the Captain.

“How close are you to closing this one? No bullshit,” Baratheon said and he may have been popping M&Ms into his mouth right now but Jon knew he couldn’t lie. As the Captain said, no bullshit. He may have been past his prime but the man could still detect bullshit from a mile away from one of his detectives.

Jon sighed. “I have her name, her employer, I have white cotton fibers and green carpet fibers. And hopefully, after I talk to Shae, I’ll have another name of someone who knows more.”

“Anything on the carpet fibers?”

“It’s from a manufacturer in Georgia and it’s used in about five different throw rugs sold at Home Good stores all throughout the country. There’s no way to trace purchases.”

Baratheon nodded at that and popped another candy into his mouth. “Realistically, Snow, can you solve this one? I would normally give you two more days and push you off to work on the next one but she was found in Brighton Park. A lot of important people live in that neighborhood and I’ve gotten more than one call from them of how horrified and scared they are.”

“I need to talk with Shae. Hopefully, she can give me something. And if she can’t… I might need a search warrant to Baelish’s house,” Jon thought out loud.

Baratheon sighed at that and leaning back in his chair, he scrubbed his hands over his face. Jon knew that getting that would be no easy feat if, in fact, he did wind up needing one. More than one judge in their fair city were (secret) clients of Petyr Baelish and none would be too eager to have their patronage possibly exposed.

“Alright,” Baratheon sighed again and looked to Jon. “Talk to Shae first. We’ll go from there.”

Jon nodded and stood up. He paused at the door though. “If Shae _can’t_ give me anything though… and with this case being a bit more high profile than other prostitute murders, I’ll need Jaime’s help.”

Baratheon poured the rest of the M&Ms into his mouth and threw the empty bag into the trash. “We’ll see.”

It wasn’t the best answer but at least it wasn’t a flat-out refusal. For now, it would have to be enough. He doubted Jaime would think the same.

…

Tyrion Lannister worked in City Hall – doing what, Jon didn’t know – and before he was married, he was a man who enjoyed women and wine. Jon had seen him when he and Jaime would go out for drinks after their shifts. But then, he married Shae, they owned a loft apartment downtown and they had a seven-month-old baby daughter.

The baby was now resting on Shae’s hip when the door was open. His police bade was clipped to his belt and Shae seemed to see that straight away.

“Hi Shae,” he smiled. “Detective Jon Snow.”

“Jaime called me to tell me that you were stopping by. Please come in, Detective.”

She stepped back, holding the door open wide for him, and Jon stepped inside.

“Thank you, Shae. And you can just call me Jon if you like.”

“I’ll call you Jon once you tell me what this is all about.”

She lead him towards the seating in the living room and he sat himself down in one of the chairs, his stomach tight with what he had come here to both tell her and ask. This was truly one of the worst things a person ever had to do in their life – tell someone that someone they had cared about was now dead.

Shae set the baby down on a playmat spread out on the floor and Jon watched as the baby sat there and stared up at Jon – as if she already knew why he was there – and Shae lowered herself onto the edge of the couch across from him.

Jon looked to her and prepared himself. “Shae, I’m here to talk with you about Ros Wallace.”

Less than a minute later, Jon was left with the baby as Shae rushed into the kitchen for a moment to be by herself and process the bombshell Jon had just dropped over her head. Not that Shae was ever suspected but her reaction just now would have swiftly crossed her from the list if she had been. From his chair, Jon could hear her crying and the shuddering breathes she was taking as she tried to gain control of herself once again. People all reacted differently when receiving this kind of news. Some reacted like Shae, breaking down immediately. Others went into shock and could hardly believe anything that was happening.

Detectives on television loved to point out that a person who didn’t react to this kind of news _clearly_ had something to hide. Jon didn’t look at it like that. He had told more than one person about the murder of a loved one and had more than one person go into shock over it. Not everyone reacted with wails and showers of tears. Those in shock were reacting and it wasn’t a sign of guilt. Jon listened to their breathing. The way it would catch in their throat or the way it would stop altogether. He watched the ticks of their muscles or the way their fingers fidgeted.

Jon, personally, had gone into shock when he was informed of his mom’s murder. He sat in a chair and didn’t speak for over an hour. He had just stared straight ahead and tried to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Shae said and Jon lifted his head from watching the baby slapping two plastic building blocks together.

“There’s no need for that,” he assured her with a shake of his head.

She had two glasses of water with her and she handed one to Jon. Sitting down on the couch once again, she took a greedy chug and after swallowing, she took a deep breath.

“Ros was my best friend.”

Jon nodded. He took a sip of water and setting the glass aside, he pulled out his notebook. “You and Ros worked together for Petyr Baelish?”

Shae nodded. “We did. She was also my maid-of-honor at my wedding. She’s my daughter’s godmother, too. You would think she would be jealous that I had found a man who loved me and took me away from Baelish but Ros wasn’t like that. She was so happy for me and she… she had other plans for herself.”

“What were those?”

“Ros had the most beautiful singing voice. She truly could have been something and… in that particular line of work, you meet all sorts of men. Most are full of shit but there are some who are actually able to help you.” Shea looked to her baby then and it was obvious she was thinking of Tyrion.

“Did she talk about anyone in particular that could help her with her singing?” Jon asked.

“A couple.” Shae gave those names and Jon wrote them down.

“Can you tell me about the last time you saw her? How was she that night? Where did you go?”

“She was… happy. We went to La Table. We stayed for a couple of hours. We both ordered the chocolate cake for dessert because we both were laughing that we wanted to be bad and Ros joked that this was the most innocent thing she had done all week. It was her night off and I said that we should go sing karaoke somewhere. We had drank red wine and Tyrion was with our daughter so I wasn’t in a hurry to get back home, but Ros wasn’t able to. She said that she was meeting a man.”

Jon had been writing and at that, he lifted his head. “A paying man? I spoke with Petyr Baelish and he said that Ros was off the night she went to dinner with you.”

“She was.” Shae paused to blow her nose again and take another sip of water. Jon noted that her hand was visibly shaking. She set the glass down and clasped her hands tightly together. “But she said that this particular man always paid her, sometimes, three times her usual amount.”

Jon wrote that down. “Please tell me you have a name.”

Shae was quiet, clearly trying to think of it. She then shook her head. “She just called him Mr. R. First or last name, I have no idea. But she did mention that he was a student.”

“A student?”

“College. The University. Something that ends with ology. Science something, I think. She didn’t know so I don’t. But I know that this particular client… she saw both the father _and_ the son. Not at the same time but… She called them both Mr. R.” 

Jon quickly wrote all of that down and he was already racing with possible majors that ended with that. _Anthropology_. That one immediately came to mind.

“And do you know what Mr. R the dad did? Or was he the student?”

“No, she never said anything about that.”

Jon nodded and continued writing.

“Jon?”

His head flew up to look to Shae.

“Ros said that Mr. R was picking her up at the restaurant. It would be around nine o’clock.”

…

“Hi! Welcome to La Table! How many?” The perky hostess beamed as soon as Jon entered the restaurant. They had just opened for lunch and there were just a few people there.

Jon unclipped his badge from his belt and held it up for her to see. “Please tell me you have security cameras.”

…

Jon did a quick look around. He wasn’t a neat freak but he wasn’t a complete slob. There were things tossed around but nothing that would embarrass him. Still, he would have liked everything to be a bit neater than it was right now because Sansa was now here.

Holy shit, Sansa was in his apartment.

It didn’t even matter to him _why_ she was here. She had been walking her dog down the street because she was now staying two doors down from him, with her parents, at their house, and now, she was here, standing just inside his front door with her dog.

“Would she like a bone?”

Jon was already moving towards the kitchen.

“You have a bone for her?” Sansa asked and he heard the curiosity in her voice.

“Yeah… I have a dog but he ran away, about three months ago. I still have all of his things.” Jon opened the bottom cabinet where all of Ghost’s food and treats were still kept. He wanted to make sure that he had plenty for when Ghost finally came home.

He handed Lady a rawhide bone and she swept her tail with excitement. It already felt so nice to have a dog in here again.

“Say thank you, Lady,” Sansa said and Jon smiled, standing up again.

“I’m so sorry about your dog. That’s terrible.”

“He’ll be back,” Jon said with confidence because what else could he say? He truly felt that he would feel if Ghost was no longer alive and Jon didn’t feel that. His dog was still somewhere, out there, and when he was ready to, he would find his way back home.

He looked to Sansa and she gave him a small smile. Once again, Jon made sure to remind himself that she had a boyfriend. He couldn’t think of how beautiful she was while she had a boyfriend. It was just torturous for him not to mention pointless.

Lady had gone into the living room, laying herself down and beginning to chew the bone, making herself quite at home, and he watched as Sansa – covertly – looked around.

He admitted, his apartment wasn’t that special. A grey couch, with a floor lamp next to it, and coffee table with a wide, flat-screen television on a little table across from it. He had a simple square table he bought from IKEA in the kitchen area with the four chairs that came with it and in his bedroom, a queen-size bed and a nightstand.

It wasn’t just because he was working all of the time and didn’t really care about furnishing this place like it came from a catalog. But honestly, he felt like he had everything he needed.

He could see how it was lacking though to a girl like Sansa.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“That’d be great,” she smiled and he moved to the fridge.

Inside, there was half a gallon of milk, a carton of orange juice he couldn’t remember buying, one cup of yogurt he also couldn’t remember buying and a box of Coke cans.

“I can give you Coke, milk that is probably spoiled and orange juice that I think came with the place,” he said and then smiled when that got a laugh out of her.

“Coke,” she said and he smiled, too, taking two cans out.

“Have you already eaten? I was-”

“About to eat dinner. I’m so sorry for just barging in here.”

“Yes. Barging usually happens when a person opens their door and invites you in.”

Her cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink at that. “Still. I’m sorry. You’ve been working all day and you probably just want to be alone.”

“Not particularly,” he shrugged. “I’m glad you’re here. Is it alright if I eat in front of you?”

“Yes, Jon. Please eat _your_ dinner in _your_ apartment.”

“Do you want any?” He asked as he took down a bowl, prepared to get another.

She looked at the pot of Ramen cooking on the stove. “Please tell me that’s not what you’re eating.”

“Wasn’t able to swing by the store for those lobsters on sale,” he said wryly, giving her another smile, before pouring the broth and noodles into the bowl. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. Our victim’s name is Ros Wallace. I’ve been in contact with everyone who needs to know so I can tell you now.”

“Ros Wallace,” Sansa repeated the name to herself as Jon carefully walked past her with his bowl and can of Coke, heading to the couch. He sat down and set everything on the coffee table and Sansa didn’t wait for him to invite her before she sat down next to him. “Have you found out anything else?”

“It’s an ongoing investigation and I’m not able to discuss things right now. But when I find anything out, I will let you know.”

Sansa was away for a moment – clearly thinking about the woman – and then hit her thumb across the top of the can a few times before snapping the tab open.

“Hey.” Jon turned a little more towards her. “Your anthropology department. Is that in the science department?”

She had just taken a sip of Coke and she shook her head at his question. “No. Anthropology is in the social sciences department.”

“Social Sciences,” it was now his turn to repeat that to himself.

So it wasn’t anthropology that this Mr. R was studying. Or maybe it was. Shae had said that she _thought_ it had been the science department but it could very easily be the _social_ science department. He would be going down to the University tomorrow to start a search for Mr. R. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be a long, frustrating day and he hoped Jaime could help him.

He took a bite of Ramen and looked to Sansa. She was back to casually looking around as she sipped at her Coke and Jon told himself not to think it but of course, trying not to think it was the only thing he thought right then.

She looked great sitting on his couch.

“Would you like to watch something? After a day, I unwind with Netflix.”

Sansa looked back to him with a smile. “Me, too. I’ve been watching “You” but I haven’t really been wanting to lately.”

“I usually stick with “The Twilight Zone,” he said, reaching for the remote.

She looked at him with the prettiest, softest smile on her face and she physically relaxed into the couch cushion beside him. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

She has a boyfriend, Snow! He shouted at himself but looking to Sansa sitting there on the couch, sipping at her Coke, and her dog lying on his carpet, chewing a bone, he had to wonder if that was a fact that didn’t really matter that much anymore.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much! I hope you liked this chapter. 
> 
> The next begins where this one stopped - with Sansa waking up on a particular detective's couch. And I promise, a lot more Jon/Sansa in the next chapter AND Sansa will be talking with a certain boyfriend.


	9. Needed Conversations

…

**Nine.** Needed Conversations.

She slowly woke up to the sound and smell of bacon sizzling. Her eyes opened and she realized immediately that she had no idea where she was. She knew, though, that she was very comfortable. She was on a couch, her head on a throw pillow, and there was a very soft grey fleece blanket over her body that was keeping her very warm. It smelled like GAIN and she knew this because she used GAIN, too, to wash her things.

She then looked to the coffee table and the television on the other side of it and she remembered where she was. Detective Jon Snow’s apartment. She had texted her parents the night before to tell them that she and Lady had stopped by to see a friend and then she and Jon had watched a couple of episodes of “The Twilight Zone” before deciding on an episode of “The Witcher”. She didn’t remember falling asleep but that was obviously what happened.

Her cell phone was on the table and she reached for it as she slowly sat up. Thank goodness. It was just a few minutes after six. She didn’t have to be at the bank until eight-thirty.

Sansa noted that her shoes had been taken off and placed under the coffee table, neatly and side-by-side, and she found herself smiling. Jon had taken her shoes off and had placed a blanket over her. Had he placed her head on the pillow as well or had her head found that on her own?

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She actually hadn’t been able to sleep the past couple of nights without taking a Unisom to basically force herself to sleep but last night, here in Jon Snow’s apartment, she seemed to have fallen asleep because she had woken up on his couch. And not only had she slept but she hadn’t woken up from a nightmare.

Ros Wallace. That had been her name. No, not _had been_. That was still her name. Ever since Sansa had found Ros’s body in the park, she had been having the worst nightmares; of trying to run and save her or of trying to run and someone watching and running after her, but last night, there had been no nightmares or needing Unisom. There had just been sleep and now, Sansa sat there, getting herself completely awake and feeling truly rested.

Looking to the kitchen, she expected to see Jon since she smelled and heard the bacon cooking on the stove but she only saw Lady, standing at a bowl on the floor, crunching away on some kibble. That must have belonged to his dog as well. She felt both awful and sad that Jon’s dog had run away. She couldn’t even imagine how she would be if anything happened to Lady.

The bacon was providing a bit of smoke now and Jon wasn’t in the kitchen. She didn’t know where he was but she couldn’t let the bacon burn.

Throwing the blanket off of herself, she hurried from the couch to the kitchen and sure enough, the bacon was nearing dangerously crispy. She opened a cabinet and found a plate and quickly ripping off a few paper towels from the roll, she laid them over the plate and picked up the nearby tongs that had been left on the counter. She heard a toilet flush behind the closed door behind her and then running water as he washed his hands and he came out again as Sansa was transporting bacon from the pan to the plate.

“Shit, I thought I had a couple more minutes,” were Jon’s first words and Sansa just laughed. “I went down to Anne Steward earlier and got a few things from her. Do you have time for breakfast? I promise. I won’t burn the eggs. I know how to cook eggs.”

“I do have time and breakfast sounds amazing,” she smiled at him and he smiled, too.

He was wearing grey sweatpants and a plain black tee-shirt and he made her heart squeeze in her chest as he smiled at her. Harry had never made her breakfast before. There had been attempts but in Harry’s opinion, attempts had been running down to the bakery and buying muffins and coffee. Not that there was anything wrong with muffins and coffee. It was just no one had ever cooked for her before – not just breakfast but not any meal. Harry had been rather hopeless when it came to the kitchen and if they didn’t want to eat a diet purely of take-out and fast food, the responsibilities fell to Sansa.

“How do you like your eggs? I can cook just about any kind except poached.”

Sansa shook her head and she found herself still smiling. “Poached hadn’t even entered my mind. Scrambled?”

“Going easy on me,” he said and his smile only widened and Sansa felt her entire body warm.

She didn’t feel any guilt and then she had to wonder _why_ she didn’t. She had fallen asleep in a man’s apartment last night – completely by accident but still – and now, this morning, he was cooking breakfast for her and giving her smiles that made her heart flutter.

But Harry was barely a thought on her mind that morning – except thinking of how he didn’t cook – and she knew why. It was like she told her dad last night. She didn’t miss Harry with him in California and her dad was right. That said just about everything.

She really needed to give Harry a call today.

“May I help?” She offered.

Jon paused in scrambling all of the egg yolks in a bowl to reach up to the cabinet and pull down two plates. He also gathered forks and two more paper towels. He handed it all to Sansa, who took it with a smile and went to go set the table.

Was it supposed to feel like this? Was it supposed to feel comfortable? They didn’t even know one another and had met one another under a truly horrible circumstance just a few days ago.

“I’m sorry for falling asleep here,” the words rushed from Sansa’s mouth. “I never meant to do that when I came over here last night and I hope it didn’t put you out-”

“It didn’t at all. I would have woken you but it was late and… even if you had Lady with you, I wouldn’t want you walking just two houses down.” Jon glanced to her before back to down to the eggs he was scrambling in the same pan he had fried the bacon. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I did,” she replied with complete honestly and she saw the faint smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth at her answer as he kept looking down to the pan.

Jon Snow was so handsome and Sansa didn’t feel guilty either about thinking that.

They sat at the table across from one another a minute later. Jon had divided the scrambled eggs evenly onto the two plates and made sure Sansa had all of the bacon she wanted. He had poured two cups of coffee as well. Lady sat on the floor at Sansa’s side, fully expecting some scraps.

“I borrowed cream and sugar from Anne, too, in case you need it,” Jon said.

“My first cup of the morning is usually black but thank you,” she smiled. “And this looks so amazing, Jon. I can’t thank you enough for feeding me.”

“Anytime,” he returned her smile with his own before taking a sip of coffee. “What are you doing?” He then asked and Sansa stopped all movements, wondering what he meant.

She then realized what she was doing and she let out a laugh. She was taking the strips of bacon and breaking them into smaller pieces, mixing them in with her eggs.

“Oh.” She laughed again and shook her head. Jon was looking at her, smiling. “I can’t even tell you. It’s just something I’ve always done when there’s bacon and scrambled eggs on my plate.”

She felt silly but she didn’t feel embarrassed. Jon’s smile didn’t make her feel like she should be.

He took another sip of coffee and then set the cup down to finally start eating his own breakfast. “Do you have any classes today?” He asked.

She shook her head, pausing to swallow. “Not today. I work at a bank a few days a week and one full day and today is that day.”

“Which bank, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Tyrell Savings and Loan. It’s the branch in…” she paused. “It’s the Brighton Park branch.”

He nodded – more to himself. “What time do you work until?”

“Five o’clock.” When it’s completely dark out, she finished to herself. She picked up her own cup and took a sip of coffee, shaking that thought from her head. “What about you? What are your plans for today?”

“Well… I’m actually not supposed to discuss ongoing investigations with those outside the department,” he said and Sansa wasn’t sure why but she laughed softly at that.

“By the book,” she nodded with appreciation and Jon smiled, his own cheeks looking pink. She was happy to see that; happy to see that she wasn’t the only one blushing while around him.

Had Harry ever blushed around her? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t think so. Not even when they had first begun dating or even before that when they had just been flirting had Harry blushed because of something she had said or just because of _her_.

Constantly comparing Harry and Jon to one another, Sansa almost felt guilty for that.

…

Sansa had been working at Tyrell Savings and Loan for two years now and she normally worked the drive-thru. She liked her job. It was a good job and she was good at doing it. She always smiled at everyone through the large glass window and made sure she helped them in every way she could and she had plenty of Dum-Dum suckers to give to kids if she saw them in the cars with their parents; or if an adult asked for one themselves. Sweet, old Mr. Turner came every week – just to check on his savings account balance and he always wanted a root beer one. 

But today, Sansa sat on her stool, eating M&Ms from the plastic container she always had in her desk drawer when she wasn’t seeing to someone and wondering if she worked here just because of Harry or if she was here because it was a job she truly wanted.

If she didn’t work here, what else would she be doing? A very good question, she knew, and no answer could be provided. It was a good job and not every job could be described as such. It gave her money to pay her bills and help with grad school costs. Her parents helped her with those but she still wanted to pay for her education as much as she could. After all, it wasn’t her parents who made her go to grad school. Therefore, they shouldn’t have to foot the entire bill as if it had been their idea.

(She didn’t even want to think about how she would pay when she went for her doctorate.)

Would she still work here when she and Harry were no longer dating? She couldn’t imagine that Harry would be malicious about it and tell their boss to fire Sansa but still… it might be awkward for everyone if they were both here, working together. She could always transfer to another branch. Tyrell Savings and Loan had branches all over and maybe, not working in Brighton Park might be the best thing of all.

One of the other loan officers, Jean, went around to everyone else, asking if they wanted Chinese from Panda Express. She would go and pick it up if anyone else wanted anything. Sansa got herself the orange chicken and a mango smoothie and made sure she gave Jean enough money. And once her food had arrived, Sansa sat in the break-room at a table by herself, looking to her phone. She usually ate lunch with her other coworkers but today, she had something else to do.

Sansa googled Ros Wallace’s name but since her identity hadn’t been released from the police yet to the media, her murder didn’t pop up. In fact, very little of anything did. Her eyes paused on a link to a police record but it would cost her money to view it and Sansa didn’t want to see it. She knew what Ros had probably been arrested for and though Sansa felt a connection to this woman – how could she _not_ after what happened? – Sansa thought her arrest record should remain Ros’s private business.

But other than that, there wasn’t much of anything. She hadn’t been on social media and though Sansa now knew her name, she didn’t know anything else about her except she had been a prostitute and someone had hated her – or what she did in life – so much, they had brutally murdered her.

She wondered if Jon knew anything. She wouldn’t ask him to compromise his investigation but maybe he knew someone who had been family or a friend. Ros was her inspiration for her thesis – even if she wouldn’t write about her specifically – and Sansa wanted to know who she was.

After finishing her lunch, Sansa returned to her post at the drive-thru and worked the next few hours, her mind continually drifting away to Ros. She hoped someone missed her. She hoped Ros had had at least one person in her life who cared for her.

The bank closed at five and Sansa then helped settle everything for the day. It was as dark outside as if it was midnight and though there were her other coworkers and the bright parking lot lights, Sansa’s stomach was still a knot, thinking about walking to her car on the other end of the lot. She hated that this neighborhood – _her_ neighborhood – now scared her so much but it did. She looked at every patch of darkness and imagined someone hiding there, waiting for her.

She walked out the outer door, taking a deep breath, but then she stopped in her tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

Jon was standing on the sidewalk outside of the bank, clearly waiting for her. “I left the station to get some dinner and to walk you from the bank to your car.”

Sansa became overwhelmed with the urge to just walk right up to him and kiss him. Or at least throw her arms around him and hug him tightly.

She, of course, couldn’t do either but she could smile. So she did.

“You came all this way to walk me to my car?” She asked.

Jon shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

She was grateful it was dark because her whole face felt like it was on fire now. Side by side, they began crossing the parking lot to where Sansa had parked her car and she couldn’t see it but she knew that he was wearing his gun at his side. Sansa had never had an opinion about guns either way but she found herself able to breathe a little easier with Jon, knowing that he would do what he had to do to keep her safe it anything happened.

She already had her keys out and she hit the button, the doors unlocking with a beep.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she let him know. She opened her door and then turned to face him. “I can’t even explain to you how much this means to me and I can’t thank you enough but you didn’t have to do this, Jon.” 

She wanted to kiss this man. She _really_ wanted to kiss this man but she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. She had to call Harry.

Jon stood there and stared into her face and she wondered if he wanted to kiss her, too.

“I wanted to,” he answered her.

Sansa struggled to keep breathing because again, all she wanted to do was kiss this man. This kind, handsome man who had cooked for her after taking her shoes off and covering her with a blanket as she fell asleep on his couch. This intelligent, hardworking man who was trying so hard to solve this murder even if Ros was a prostitute and most people wouldn’t care about it.

She was going to call Harry as soon as she got home.

…

As soon as she got home, she changed from the dress she wore that day into her pajamas and told her mom that she would be right down for dinner. She just had to call Harry. And closing her bedroom door, Lady jumping up onto the bed and Sansa sitting down to join her, she brought up Harry’s number. She thought she would feel nervous but she didn’t and what kind of horrible person did that make her if she wasn’t nervous to break up with her boyfriend of two years?

“Hey,” Harry answered on the third ring.

“Hi,” Sansa exhaled a breath.

“I was going to call you but I forgot if you had class tonight or not.”

“No, I was at the bank today. Is everything alright?” Besides me about to break up with you?

“Yeah…” Harry began to say and Sansa could hear someone shouting in the background. It sounded like Marty and she heard Harry go somewhere, closing the door so it was quieter. “There’s a Tyrell branch out here in West Hollywood and they’re looking for a new small loan manager. I was thinking about putting my name in.”

“What?” The word fell from her mouth before she could stop it.

“And Marty was talking to me. I guess some of the producers for the show have showed some interest in me because I actually have a job that’s outside of the food service world. I guess the show has been wanting to show someone who wasn’t trying to become an actor.”

“Wow,” Sansa now said.

Her heart was beating quickly but she wasn’t exactly sure why. This was great. This was great! She just didn’t expect this particular conversation to go this way, she admitted.

“I obviously wanted to talk to you first because you have grad school and all of that… and I know you probably wouldn’t want to move to California-”

“I haven’t been missing you,” she admitted.

“What?” It was now Harry’s turn to say.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I just-” she paused to exhale a heavy breath. “Since you’ve been gone and I found that woman in the park, I’ve been thinking about so many things and I’ve just come to realize that I haven’t missed you while you’ve been gone.”

Harry was completely silent from the other end of the phone and Sansa was holding her breath. She didn’t know what he would do. Harry wasn’t the sort to yell or shout. But was he the sort to refuse what she said and start fighting for their relationship? She actually couldn’t imagine him doing that either.

But then, he let out a laugh.

“Oh my God, Sansa,” he said and laughed again. “That’s… that sucks but it’s the same for me. I’ve been out here, hanging out with my parents and Marty and some of my other friends and I… I realized this morning that I hadn’t thought about you in hours.”

Sansa wanted to be insulted or hurt but instead, she exhaled and with it, she felt something lighten in her chest that she hadn’t realized had been weighed down in the first place.

“Somewhere along the way, we became roommates,” Harry added. “When did that happen?”

“I think when we started going to bed without taking our socks off,” she answered – only half-joking – and Harry let out a laugh. “So you’re going to be a reality TV star in LA? I did not see that coming.”

“I might need you to go on Reddit and post nice things about me after my first season.”

Sansa almost felt like crying but not because she and Harry were breaking up. Two years were ending right now but she wasn’t almost crying because of it. She felt like crying because they both realized that they had naturally reached their end and now, they could both go forward.

And now, the next time she saw Jon Snow, she could walk right up to him and kiss him if that was what she wanted to do. And she wanted to do that very much.

…

After her morning classes, she had a couple of free hours and she went right to the university library to begin research. She had a book on Jack the Ripper that she felt she needed to learn about considering what her thesis was about and wasn’t that someone people thought of immediately in regards to this particular subject? But this particular book she was reading – which focused more on the victims than the murderer – suggested that the women hadn’t actually been prostitutes at all.

_Very_ interesting, Sansa thought to herself as she kept the book open with her left hand and scribbled away in her notebook with her right.

“Sansa?”

Her head flew up and she saw a young man standing on the other side of the table. He looked familiar. She wasn’t sure why. She was fairly certain that she had no idea who he was but he obviously knew who she was.

“I’m sorry to interrupt-” He gave her a smile then and it gave her a cold sweep across the back of her neck. Just like she had gotten when she had left Daario’s office and saw that underclassman. This was the same person and he made her feel cold. “- but I’ve been really struggling with my intro to Anthropology class and was hoping that you’d be able to maybe tutor me.”

“Oh. I, um, I would love to but I’m so busy right now with my thesis and I have work… I’m just not able to tutor anyone at the moment,” Sansa shook her head and did her best to give this person an apologetic smile. How did he find her? “But if I’m able to find some time, I might be able to. Could I have your name and number, just in case?”

He eagerly wrote the information down – his smile causing her to shiver again – and he passed her the slip of paper, her eyes glancing down. Ramsay Bolton.

She had a feeling in her gut as she looked at his name. Even if she _did_ have spare time to tutor someone, for whatever reason, she didn’t think she’d be giving Ramsay Bolton a call. She was going to go with her gut on this one.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly MISS this story when I go a few days without writing it. Thank you so, so much to those reading this one and enjoying it as much as I love writing it!


	10. Special Delivery

…

**Ten.** Special Delivery.

As Shae had said, Ros left La Table – according to the security tapes – at 8:58. A sleek black Cadillac SUV stopped outside the front doors of the restaurant and Jon watched as Ros stepped from the restaurant, wearing that sparkly knee-length purple dress and the short black fur coat. She hadn’t been wearing shoes when she had been found in the park but on the video, Jon now saw that she had been wearing closed-toe high heels with a strap across the middle. Since becoming a police officer, Jon had learned quite a few things about women’s clothes. It was important for descriptions and reports to understand what the victim – or suspect – was wearing.

“What happened to her shoes?” He asked out loud. He paused the tape and rewound it so he could watch Ros stepping from the restaurant again.

“Souvenir,” Jaime answered from the chair next to him, eating out a bag of potato chips as he, too, watched the footage. “Or she lost them, maybe, during the struggle and he just tossed them away.” 

Jon watched Ros exit the restaurant and smile at the person in the SUV. She had been beautiful. Even on a restaurant’s crappy security tape, Jon could see that and it was no secret why Ros was one of Baelish’s top girls. What had set the person off who had killed her like they had?

He paused on the car. It was almost completely out of screen so he couldn’t see the driver and the front plate was only a partial. RAM. That should be enough to go on, partial or not; especially since he could easily identify that it was a Cadillac.

Jon turned in his chair back to his desk and went to the page of car registration.

It took him just a few seconds and when he brought up who the car was registered, too, he couldn’t stop the word that flew from his mouth. “Fuck!” He exclaimed.

Jaime almost jumped in his chair. If either of them had any cursing outbursts, it was him. “What is it?” He stood up to lean over Jon’s desk; to look at his computer screen to see what he saw. He then stood up straight and wiped his hand on the thigh of his pants, forgetting all about the grease that stained his fingers from the potato chips. “Alright. It’ll be alright. Robert!” He then yelled.

“What?” Robert yelled back from his office.

“Get out here!”

Jon just kept staring at his computer screen. The car was registered to Roose Bolton. His _Honorable_ Roose Bolton, a judge on the circuit court of their fair city. Shit, shit, shit! He couldn’t go after a judge even if he had security footage that clearly showed his car, picking up a woman who, just an hour after this was captured, was found brutally murdered in a park. Obviously, he didn’t know if Roose had been driving. It could be argued that anyone could be driving the man’s car and Jon already knew that that would be the exact argument that the man would give when Jon went to go talk to him but Jon _had_ to go talk to him.

“What?” Robert grumbled, lumbering into their cubicle.

Jon didn’t say anything. He just pushed himself back from his desk so Robert could see what was up on his screen and Jon knew the instant it registered in Robert’s mind; his face looking pale.

“Alright,” the man straightened and hiked his pants up as best as he could. “Show me what you have. You’re not going to go talk to this man unless you have a concrete reason. Show me.”

…

Jon had to testify in Roose Bolton’s courtroom once and even if he hadn’t been the one on trial, he had been so nervous, he had been afraid that his stuttering would ruin the whole case. It had been his first time since becoming a detective that he had to be in court and as soon as his testimony was done, he told Jaime that he was never doing that again.

Robert told Jaime to go with him and now, the two sat outside of the Judge’s Chambers, waiting for the man to call them in. Jon’s stomach was a knot and he told himself to _not_ get sick all over Roose Bolton’s carpet. He told himself to think of anything else right now. And of course, when he told himself to do that, there was only one thing that entered his mind and stayed there.

He thought of Sansa.

During the episodes of “The Twilight Zone” they had watched together, and him eating his bowl of Ramen, they had talked. Not about Ros or the investigation – which he couldn’t talk about with her anyway – but just about things that people talked about when they were getting to know one another.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Sansa asked and she turned herself on the couch so she was facing him completely.

He thought of that for a moment. He wanted to say something that would impress her but instead, he figured that he should just be truthful. “ _Boogie Nights_ ,” he then told her. He wasn’t sure what Sansa would think about it or if she even knew what it was about but as he took another bite of Ramen noodles, he looked to her and found her smiling.

“I only saw that once and of course, a group of teenage girls, there was only one scene we _really_ wanted to see,” she laughed and Jon grinned around his spoon. “I need to watch it again.”

Jon nodded his head towards his TV stand where on the shelf below, he had a few movies. “I own it if you ever want to come over and watch it,” he offered while of course, he shouted at himself that she had a boyfriend. He yelled that at himself constantly while in Sansa’s presence. Maybe, one of these days, he would remember that.

Sansa smiled warmly at his offer and took a sip of Coke.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Jon asked her in return.

She kept smiling as if she was so happy that he had asked. “ _The Fellowship of the Ring_.”

And that wasn’t what he was expecting – at all – but he obviously didn’t tell her that. “As an anthropologist, who in Middle Earth, would you want to study?”

Sansa laughed. “Hmmm. A very serious question.” She took another sip of Coke. “Dwarves. The dwelling in mountains would be very interesting to study. What’s your favorite food? And please don’t say it’s what you’re eating right now.”

“You seem to have some sort of snobbery towards Ramen and I wouldn’t expect it from a grad student. I thought it was just a universal truth that people in college ate this three meals a day.”

She laughed again. “In my opinion, if I’m going to eat Ramen, I might as well just lick a salt block since the sodium intake will be the same.”

“It’s good apocalypse food.”

“Well, when the apocalypse comes, then I will eat Ramen.”

It was a ridiculous conversation, he knew, and yet, it was an amazing one all of the same. If he thought about it, he would wonder why he was having an amazing conversation with a girl he had just met a few days ago – and under terrible circumstances, to boot.

They had talked until Sansa fell asleep during an episode of “The Witcher”. She had scooted down a bit further on the couch as they watched, to get comfortable, with her feet propped on the coffee table and when Jon looked over to her again, her head was resting on the couch’s arm and she was fast asleep.

Jon moved as quietly as he possibly could. He turned the television off and carried his empty bowl and the two empty Coke cans into the kitchen. He then went back to the couch. Moving gently, not wanting to wake her up, he went to her legs and gently – as gently as he could – he pulled her down so her head was no longer resting on the arm but on one of the pillows he had on the couch and her legs were stretched out. There was a blanket he had over the back of the couch and he unfolded it now and made sure she was completely covered with it.

Sansa remained deeply asleep and he then untied her shoes and gently pulled them off. He could have easily woken her up and told her and Lady to head home. He would have walked her home. But he listened to her deep breathing. She was _really_ asleep and he wondered how much sleep she had been getting since having found Ros’s body in the park. He couldn’t wake her up.

Something suddenly hit him in the thigh, breaking through Jon’s thoughts, and he saw that it was Jaime. Jon lifted his head and saw that Roose Bolton’s secretary was telling them that they could go in and see the Judge now.

Jon and Jaime stood up, both exhaling deep breaths.

“Remember. Mind your manners,” Jaime said.

Jon didn’t say anything to that. He just gave him a look. Jaime was usually the one who needed to be reminded of that.

In the Judge’s chambers, Roose Bolton was sitting behind his desk and did not stand when the detectives were shown in.

“Can I get you anything, Your Honor?” The secretary asked.

“I’m alright, Mary. Detectives? Coffee? Water?” Roose asked, looking to the men.

“No, thank you, Your Honor,” Jon was the one to answer.

The secretary left, closing the door behind her, and Roose gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. Jon wasn’t going to show how nervous he was. He wasn’t accusing Roose of anything and it was important that the Judge knew that. Jon had nothing to accuse him of anything anyway. So Ros got into a car registered to the man. Jon didn’t even know if he had been driving that car that night. He assumed the Judge had several cars to choose from.

“Now, what can I do for you?” Roose asked.

“Thank you for seeing us, Your Honor,” Jon began. “Are you aware of the body found in Brighton Park a few nights ago?”

“Of course. I live in that area and people are quite nervous and waiting for good news.”

Jon didn’t mean to take that as a swipe at him but he knew that that was what the man intended. The police weren’t doing their job and people were scared.

“The woman has been identified as Ros Wallace. Do you know her?” Jon had a printed copy of Ros’s booking photo from one of her arrests and he held it up now for Roose to see.

He thought of Shae’s words. _But I know that this particular client… she saw both the father and the son. Not at the same time but… She called them both Mr. R._

“Well, I can only assume that you already know I knew Ms. Wallace if you’re here, asking me about her,” Roose said with the slightest smile that wasn’t given for any usual reason as to why people smiled.

“She was at La Table for dinner and was picked up at the restaurant at 8:58 by a car registered in your name,” Jon continued and then held up a photo still taken from the security tape. A second photo showed a zoomed-in shot of the partial license plate.

“May I?” Roose leaned forward in his chair and Jon leaned forward in his so he could hand the two pictures to the Judge for him to look closer.

Jon and Jaime looked to one another silently. Jaime hadn’t said a word but Jon knew that Jaime was watching Roose for the slightest reaction that might give something away. Jon then looked back to Roose as he was looking at both pictures.

“Your Honor, where were you on Sunday night?” Jon couldn’t not ask. Judge or not.

Roose didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he was still looking at the pictures. Finally, the man lifted his head to look at Jon. “I was with Ros but she received a phone call around 9:45 and she had to cut our time short. I had planned on being with Ros for the entire night but this call seemed to be too important to her and she wasn’t able to ignore it.”

“Did she say who this phone call was from?” Jon asked though he wasn’t expecting it. That would make it far too easy for him.

“She did not. I was disappointed, of course. Ros and I…” he trailed off and the man did something then. He swallowed. Visibly swallowed – as if he was upset and trying to hide it.

Jon and Jaime glanced to one another, both having caught that.

“I don’t expect you two to understand seeing as who I am and what Ros’s profession was but I loved her, Detectives. She hadn’t been answering my calls for these past few days but I know how busy Mr. Baelish keeps her.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Your Honor,” Jon said and almost completely meant that. “When you and Ros left the restaurant, you went to your house?”

Roose cleared his throat and handed him back the photos. “Yes. Mary will give you my address if you need it. I’m probably two minutes away from the Baelish house. I drove her back at 9:45 and then I was back to my own house at 10:00.”

“Can anyone verify that?” Jaime finally spoke.

“If I knew I would need an alibi, I would have made sure someone had seen me. But unfortunately, Detectives, I live by myself and returned to an empty house. No one would have seen me. Dropping Ros off had ruined all of my plans for the night and I went to bed as soon as I got home.”

“Did you see Ros go inside when you dropped her off?” Jon asked.

Roose blinked at him. “What do you mean, Detective?”

“When you dropped Ros off at her house, did you wait to see if she went inside or did you pull away before she got to the door?”

Roose stared at him with hard eyes. “I am a gentleman, Detective. I waited until I saw Ros get herself inside the house.”

“And this was at 9:45?” Jon wanted to make sure he didn’t miss a thing because he had a feeling that Roose Bolton would not be so willing to talk to him a second time.

The Judge sighed then – clearly done with this conversation. “9:45, Detective. I even remember what song was on the radio as Ros went inside. It was the Kinks. Nothin’ in the world can stop me worryin’ ‘bout that girl.”

…

Roose Bolton was lying but why he was, Jon had no idea _who_ he was lying for. And that was the mystery he was trying to solve. Petyr Baelish lied too. He had to have seen Ros when she came back to the house on Sunday night – literally _minutes_ before she was murdered and dumped in the park. Was Roose lying for Baelish? Did Roose really drop her off and go home, to bed, or did he, perhaps go into the Baelish house with Ros as well?

That song played at 10:08, Sansa made the 911 call at 10:11 and Sam said that Ros’s time of death was around 10. That meant that Roose had been with Ros just minutes before she died. But why would he say something that Jon could so easily disprove?

Jon didn’t even want to think about what he needed to do. Robert would really have to be convinced about it but Jon would go into his office and explain why he needed a search warrant for the Judge’s SUV. He also needed a search warrant for Baelish’s house. Even if both men had cleaned both areas as closely as they could, they couldn’t have cleaned up every drop of blood. That was all he needed. A single drop of Ros’s blood. He needed to find out where she was murdered because it hadn’t been in the park. She had been dry despite the drizzle that night and the manner in which she had been killed, there would have been a lot of blood. _A lot_. It would have been quite the chore to cleanup and either man would have needed help.

It could be argued that it was all circumstantial, what Jon had so far, but the time line was too closely compacted and her time of death or the time that song played couldn’t be argued.

With a yawn – already tired just thinking about arguing with his Captain tomorrow – Jon pulled into the driveway and headed to the garage. The other awesome thing about the Steward carriage house was that it was over his own garage. Just as he pulled in and got out of the car, the back door to the Steward house opened.

“Jon!” Olly shouted.

“Hey, Olly,” Jon lifted a hand as he stepped from the garage. “Everything okay?”

“You had something delivered and it was sitting on your porch so I brought it in here.”

Jon frowned as he went to the back door. A delivery? He hadn’t ordered anything.

Olly had gone into the kitchen and came to the back door again, holding a brown paper shopping bag in each arm. “It’s from Aldi. Not that I was peaking but I recognize some the brands.”

“And it’s for me?” Jon frowned as he took the bags in his arms. He peeked into both and saw a half-gallon of milk, a box of cereal, eggs and a box of rice.

“It was at your front door,” Olly said. “It’s cold out so I don’t think anything melted but like I said, I didn’t want to leave it just out there for anyone to see.”

“Thanks, Olly,” Jon gave the teenager a smile.

Heading back to the carriage house, he headed up the stairs and set one of the bags down so he could unlock the door without dropping everything.

Inside with the door locked, he flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen with his elbow and set the bags down on the counter. Who ordered him groceries? Did Anne do this after he went down to see this morning for a few breakfast things he could feed Sansa?

No, Anne had a key to his apartment and she would have just left the things inside. (Olly didn’t know where the key was because as Anne said, her fifteen-year-old son did _not_ need access to an apartment where he could do things.)

So who ordered him groceries from Aldi?

He began unpacking and he wasn’t going to lie. He was excited. Grocery shopping just was never that high of a priority of his – as was evident with the lack of things in his refrigerator. After seeing Sansa at the bank tonight and walking her to her car, he had gotten McDonald’s for dinner because honestly, he lived off of carryout and fast food.

He knew how to cook. Before she died, his mom had actually taught him but he just didn’t have the time. He wished he did. He missed being in the kitchen and preparing something good that was actually not clogging his heart. Cooking breakfast for Sansa this morning, he had forgotten how much fun he had in the kitchen.

A loaf of bread, a dozen eggs, milk, apples, bananas, baby carrots, a few tomatoes and potatoes, white rice, a box of Aldi’s version of Raisin Bran cereal, a block of cheddar cheese, a jar of peanut butter and another of grape jelly, a bag of chicken breasts, spaghetti noodles, a jar of sauce, some Muenster cheese slices, a pack of turkey lunch meat, a pack of bacon and a pack of chocolate chip cookies.

This was pretty freaky. These were things he would buy for himself if he actually went to the grocery store. Using his detective skills, he tried to think of who had done this for him.

But the note at the bottom of one of the bags solved the mystery for him.

_Make yourself something other than Ramen! Sansa 😊_

Jon stared at the note as his hand was already reaching for his phone without even realizing it. He was going to call her and invite her over. He was going to cook her dinner tomorrow. He was going to invite her over and he was going to cook for her. She had taken the time to buy him groceries and have them delivered to his front door.

She had a boyfriend but Jon didn’t care. When it was just him, he could think about Sansa as much as he wanted and he could imagine all of the things he wanted to do to her. And good God, the things he wanted to do to her.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter *literally* fell from my fingers and as soon as I finished the last chapter, I had to start this one. I hope you enjoy it! THANK YOU so much to those reading!
> 
> (And I know not everyone has Aldi where they are. I'm slightly in love with the store. It's a grocery store that sells their own brands at cheap prices. I find Aldi slightly addicting lol)


	11. Things to Say

…

**Eleven.** Things to Say.

Sansa admitted that when she had Daario as a professor when she was an undergrad and she saw him for the first time, she had a crush on the very handsome man; as did so many other girls – and some boys – in the class. But the longer she was in his class, listening to his lectures and taking notes, Sansa saw just how smart he was when it came to the anthropology studies and she learned so much.

For all of his degrees, Daario’s main focus of study – and expertise – was Linguistic Anthropology, which explored how language shaped communication; language playing a huge role in social identity, group membership and establishing cultural believes and ideologies. Sansa had asked him once how many languages he knew. Not just speaking but those he could understand. Daario wasn't even certain because he just knew so many. Those studies led him to different tribes in South America since almost every single tribe spoke their own language and going to Colombia led him to meeting his wife, Silvia.

Colombia was divided into 32 departments and Silvia was from Meta and in Meta, there was an Indigenous language, Achagua, that was spoken only by about 250 people within that area – and Silvia’s father just happened to be one of those people.

Daario was down there for a year – studying and researching. And falling in love.

A couple of times a week, Daario had a two-hour block of free time in the afternoon between classes and office hours where he would go home for a little bit – either for lunch or a nap or to do whatever Silvia needed him to do. She was in the middle of nesting and getting their home ready for their baby and her list of chores seemed to always grow rather than shrink.

This time, Sansa came with him because he had a night class tonight so Silvia was making their dinner for lunch that day and Daario asked if she wanted to come along. They could talk a bit more about the research she had found so far. Sansa would never say “no” to Silvia’s cooking.

Daario and Silvia lived in an apartment close to campus and Sansa followed him onto the elevator, sighing as she dropped her heavy bag from her shoulder onto the floor at her feet.

“How many books are you carrying?” Daario asked, glancing down to the bag before to her, taking a sip from the water bottle in his hand.

“I don’t even know, to be honest.”

She sighed again just thinking about all of the books and brought her hands to her face; her fingers digging into her eyes. She had just changed her thesis and had really dived into research and already, she was drowning. Making the decision to tie her uncontacted peoples – prostitutes – in with the crime that this group so often attracted, the research was endless. That was a good thing and something she was not complaining about. It was just… a lot; a rabbit hole that she had fallen down and still hadn’t reached the bottom.

“Right now, I’m reading about Joel Rifkin,” Sansa said and picked up her bag again when the elevator doors opened with a ding once they reached their desired floor.

“Who’s Joel Rifkin?” Daario asked as they headed down the hallway.

Sansa hated that he had to ask the question but she knew that plenty of people didn’t know who Joel Rifkin was and in her opinion, that was a major problem. “Oh, no one. He’s just a guy from New York City who murdered seventeen prostitutes, was convicted of nine of those and is currently serving 203 years in prison.”

“Alright, I get it,” Daario said with a nod, noting her tone immediately. “But that’s why you’re writing this thesis, isn’t it?”

And it was. These women were people just like anyone else. No matter what they did with their lives, that didn’t mean they weren’t people who didn’t deserve someone to care about them. She thought of Ros and how she had looked when Sansa found her in the park. Ros had been someone. Someone had given birth to Ros. Someone had raised Ros. She had been someone’s friend; someone’s daughter; maybe someone’s sister. She had been _someone_. All of these women – no matter what they did – were.

Sansa knew she was just a grad student writing a thesis for her master’s degree and she wouldn’t be able to make any difference whatsoever but she couldn’t go into her research, thinking that.

“We’re here!” Daario called out when he opened the apartment door and then stepped aside so Sansa could enter first.

“You’re here!” Silvia exclaimed, coming out of the kitchen, beaming, and Sansa smiled when she saw her, Silvia coming right to her and embracing her in a tight hug, her pregnant belly pressing into Sansa’s middle. “I’m making empanadas for us,” Silvia then told them both. “I was fully prepared to order pizza but the baby made me feel like cooking instead. Pork and potato and I’ve made plenty.”

Silvia was one of those women a person immediately wanted to hate just because of how beautiful she was – long dark hair, a splattering of freckles across her face and the brownest eyes Sansa had ever seen. But no one could actually hate Silvia. She was just so _nice_.

She spoke with a thickened accent and occasionally mixed Spanish with her English but Sansa had no problem understanding her – especially when she talked about empanadas.

In the kitchen, Silvia had already set three places and the mountain of delicious deep-fried empanadas were already sitting in the middle of the table, waiting for them.

Sansa looked at them and she couldn’t help but think of Jon. She wished Jon was here, too, so he could eat a good home-cooked meal. She didn’t know why but she thought he would really like Daario and Silvia. They were nice and Jon was nice and nice people liked other nice people.

God, Sansa, do you know any other word, she frowned at herself.

“Thank you,” Jon had called her last night and he said that first before even saying hello or who it was. “You didn’t…” he paused then and she could imagine him shaking his head. She wondered if he was wearing it pulled back like he often did or if it was down like it had been yesterday morning as they ate breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this, Sansa.”

Sansa was sitting in her bed, reading, and she smiled into the phone. She wanted to tell him about Harry right away but she stopped herself. For some reason, she knew it would be better to tell him that in person. Why, she didn’t know. She didn’t even know if Jon would care that she had broken up with her boyfriend. Why would he care? They still didn’t know one another well enough. She didn’t even know if Detective Snow had a girlfriend.

(Though if he had one, he seemed to be more than alright with girls falling asleep on his couch.)

Sansa recalled what Jon had said when she told him that he didn’t have to come to the bank just to walk her to her car. “I wanted to,” she said to him.

They were both quiet and she heard him exhale a shuddering breath.

“I was going to buy you particular things for particular recipes but I want you to cook whatever you want so you’ll have to go back to the store so I really didn’t help that much-”

“I had a Big Mac for dinner tonight,” Jon interrupted her. “I can’t remember the last time I ate a vegetable that actually crunched.” Sansa laughed and she heard him smiling. “Would you like to come over tomorrow night?” He then asked her. “We can watch _Boogie Nights_ and we can eat something other than Ramen.”

Sansa laughed again and she just felt so _warm_ having the most innocent conversation with him.

“I would love that.”

And now, as she sat with Daario and Silvia for lunch, she wished Jon was here with them and she told herself that she’d be seeing him again in just a few hours. Even when she and Harry had just started dating, Sansa could never remember counting hours until she saw him again like she was doing for Jon and she wasn’t even dating Jon.

“If there are any empanadas left over, do you mind if I take some?” Sansa asked.

Silvia instantly smiled. “ _Si_! Of course! Daario told me of your new thesis topic. You need some brain food if you’re starting all over.”

Sansa smiled, too. “So, when he was telling you about it, did he tell you he thinks it’s the worst possible thesis idea he’s ever heard?”

She looked to her advisor and Daario smirked at that but he was in the middle of chewing so he wasn’t able to respond.

“No, no,” Silvia shook her head. “ _Brillante_ , he called it. He even sounded a little jealous that he had never thought of something like that for his own uncontacted peoples studies.”

“Really?” Sansa didn’t try to mask her surprise. “Did you really?”

Daario took another empanada and shrugged. “I might have said something like that.”

There were other professors in the Anthropology department at the University; plenty of people with all sorts of degrees and authored books and areas of specialty that they knew better than most people could ever dream of knowing. But when it came to _this_ topic – uncontacted peoples – Daario was one of the leading experts in the _country_ and if thought Sansa’s thesis was brilliant? Well, that was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?

Daario knew so many in this field that he could show her thesis to once she completed and presented it - if it was something worth showing - and if he showed it to the right person, maybe, somehow, she could help and make a difference. All it took was one person.

…

“Going to spend time with a friend again?” Catelyn asked as Sansa tugged on her shoes. Lady was waiting for her at the front door, her tail wagging in anticipation.

“I am,” she confirmed. “I’m taking him some empanadas from Silvia and Daario’s and I think we’re going to be watching a movie.”

“Him?” Of course Catelyn immediately picked up on that.

Sansa had told her parents about hers and Harry’s breakup and she didn’t want to say that her parents were ecstatic when they heard the news but they certainly happy and horrible at hiding it. She knew they hadn’t hated Harry – there truly was no reason to ever hate him – but they never seemed to be thrilled about Sansa’s relationship with him either.

Now, Sansa went to the front hall closet to get her coat. She loved staying with her parents – and Rickon. Sansa had had always loved her family and being with them and she was lucky to have somewhere safe she could stay after what happened in Brighton Park this past week but she really missed her own place. Her apartment was one of her favorite places in the world but now, she had to wonder if she would ever actually be able to live there again.

She hoped so. Her parents had raised none of their children to be afraid and maybe, _when_ Jon solved Ros’s murder, there would be no reason to still be afraid and she could get back home. She and Harry had already talked about it and he offered to still help her pay rent and utilities since he had decided to stay out in California rather unexpectedly, leaving Sansa a bit in a lurch to being the sole bill payer and Sansa was considering taking him up on the offer. She just really loved that apartment so much.

“Why didn’t you and dad ever like Harry?” Sansa suddenly asked, turning to Catelyn as she zipped up her coat and circled her scarf around her neck.

It almost seemed as if Catelyn had been expecting such a question. She exhaled a soft sigh and stepped to Sansa, closing the distance between them.

“I never didn’t _not_ like Harry, Sansa. I need you to know that. Harry is a perfectly nice man who has a good job and is building a career for himself. I knew he’d be able to take care of you.”

“But you didn’t like him for me?”

Catelyn paused at that. “I didn’t,” she responded with complete honesty that surprised Sansa. “I want, for all of my children, to love someone as much as your dad and I love each other and I knew you didn’t love Harry as much as I know you are capable to love someone.”

Sansa didn’t know what to say to that. Hearing her mom say something like that, it was _a lot_ and she needed time to think on that.

Not responding, she stepped in and hugged her mom tight and Catelyn hugged her back.

“I’ll text you when I get there,” Sansa said.

“Have fun with _him_ ,” Catelyn smiled. “Do I get to know his name?”

Sansa laughed, stepping back, and went to go hook Lady’s leash onto her collar. “Depending on how tonight goes, we’ll see.”

She didn’t know how tonight would go. Jon had invited her over and he wouldn’t be doing that if he had a girlfriend. And if he _did_ have a girlfriend, he was leading her on and Sansa couldn’t believe that Detective Jon Snow was the kind of man who would do that. But maybe he thought it was okay to do that because he thought she had a boyfriend and was unavailable herself.

What would he do when she told him that she was single now?

It had been just a few days since they first met one another but as Sansa, with Lady, walked from her parents’ house to Jon’s carriage house two doors down, she knew that she hadn’t been imagining things between them. Falling asleep on his couch – falling asleep easily without waking from nightmares – and having him cook her breakfast and then coming to the bank to walk her to her car. And before that, dinner at Cups and both talking openly with one another.

No, Sansa hadn’t been imagining anything. There was something there, between them. She knew there was. She didn’t doubt that Jon felt it, too. And now, it was judgement time.

She refrained from running the rest of the way to Jon’s door.

…

“My friend’s from Colombia and she makes the most amazing empanadas. Have you ever had one?” Sansa asked after Jon took her coat to hang up and Lady had trotted off for the living room where she had left the rawhide bone she hadn’t finished chewing the night before.

“I haven’t,” he shook his head and prying the corner of the plastic lid up, he inhaled deeply. “It kind of looks like a pierogi,” he noted.

“Kind of,” she agreed. “But it’s not.” Jon smiled. “Pork and potato filling and when I went over for lunch and saw that she had made some, I knew I had to get some over to you.”

“Thank you. These look amazing. I’m going to preheat the oven and then eat them all,” Jon decided and with one more smile to her, he turned and headed into the kitchen.

She took a deep breath to herself, preparing herself. She really hoped this went the way she wanted it to. She wanted it to. She was always thinking about this man and wondering when she could see him again. They were both so busy with their own lives and yet, she still thought of him. She wanted to see him and talk with him and go back to Cups for breakfast for dinner and sit on his couch and watch Netflix with him after their days.

“Are you alright?”

Jon popped back into the hallway when he saw that Sansa hadn’t followed him into the kitchen. His brow was furrowed and he looked so concerned.

She looked at him and felt her stomach tightening and fluttering at the same time.

“My boyfriend and I broke up,” she said – quickly like ripping off a Band-Aid. Either he wouldn’t care and say something completely platonically and Sansa would know that she had been imagining all of this or… he would care. Very much. “Yesterday, we both decided that we were just better apart and it was time to move on. And I… I just thought you’d like to know.”

Jon stared at her. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. Was he even breathing? It didn’t look like he was breathing and Sansa took a step towards him out of concern. If he fell from lack of oxygen, she wanted to make sure that his head didn’t hit anything.

But she moving seemed to snap Jon out of it because he was kissing her then. His arms wrapped around her and he hauled her body to his and he kissed her as if her words had broken something inside of him he had been trying to hold together. She didn’t pull back. She instantly kissed him back, her fingers in his hair, down this evening, pulling on strands and making him moan as she pressed herself to him. It was fast. Desperate and hungry. When was the last time she had been kissed like this? 

A long, long time.

And the air, it was so hot, in the back of her mind, Sansa wondered if something was wrong with Jon’s oven that the apartment was now on fire. She couldn’t breathe. Her head was spinning, the ground beneath her feet tilting. He was wearing a short-sleeve shirt despite the cold outside and she felt the bare skin of his arms. He was so hot, on fire beneath her hands, and she felt the muscles twitch beneath his tight skin as she touched him with light fingertips. His tongue was deep in her mouth, trying to crawl inside, sucking on her tongue back into his. She moaned and pressed herself against him and there was a throbbing between her thighs that she tried to clamp away. There was only one thing that could get rid of it and it was currently poking her in her leg.

Jon felt it, too, at the exact same second because his lips were pulled away and Sansa couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her. They were both breathing so heavily, the sharp intakes and exhales filled the hallway.

They both jumped when the preheated oven suddenly beeped and Sansa laughed at how silly she felt and Jon smiled. He leaned in again and Sansa’s breath held in her chest as he kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes at the softness and sweetness of it especially just after that insane first kiss they had just shared.

“How long should I heat them for, do you think?” Jon asked and he slowly – reluctantly – stepped back from her but he took her hand so she had to come with him.

“Ten minutes should do it, I think.”

In the kitchen, she watched as Jon lined the empanadas onto a baking tray and then slid it into the oven. He began setting the timer and Sansa couldn’t stop herself from smiling a little to herself. After sharing such a kiss between them, it was all so comfortable and normal.

“How was your day today?” She asked him. “I know you can’t tell me about the investigation but… how was anything else?”

Jon smiled at that and turned to her. He leaned his hip against the counter and his arms were folded loosely across his chest. “You’re right. I can’t tell you about the investigation but I can tell you that myself, Jaime and our Captain spent the day, typing up search warrants, making sure every ‘i’ was dotted and ‘t’ was crossed and all of our evidence so far was lined up. And then, we had to find a judge who would sign off on this.”

Sansa felt her chest seize. “You have a suspect?” She whispered. She wasn’t sure why but she felt her eyes grow wet. Ros.

“I have a person of interest. We’ll see what comes of it.”

“What do I say? Good luck? Happy hunting? Book ‘em, Danno?”

Jon cracked into a grin and she smiled, too. “After I make an arrest, you can say that to me.”

Sansa didn’t stop herself from stepping forward and sliding her arms around his waist. Jon definitely didn’t seem to mind as he moved his own arms around her. Goodness, this all felt so right. How was that possible? After just a few days?

“I can’t wait to say that to you,” she said, still smiling.

“With this case and the way it’s going, I’m really going to need to hear that at the end of it.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!!!!!!
> 
> In the next chapter, more of Jon's detective work as he serves his search warrant - but serves it to who?


	12. Interview

…

**Twelve.** Interview.

He wanted Sansa to spend the night. Desperately. But it wasn’t the night for that. She had to work at the bank in the morning and then had class in the afternoon and Jon had to be up bright and early tomorrow. He had to keep his head on straight for the warrant and everything he wanted to do to Sansa, things that he had been imagining doing but had done his best to forget all of it because she had had a boyfriend, he definitely needed a full night and he’d be useless the next day, recovering.

The time for that would come. They both had other things to see to. But the way he and Sansa kissed one another goodnight, Jon knew – without a doubt – that Sansa was imagining all of those things, too.

“Let me walk you back,” Jon said and began to join her on the porch, closing the door behind him. It was after eight and dark and she was two doors down but still. It was dark and he was a gentleman and he wasn’t going to let her walk home alone.

Sansa just smiled and shook her head before leaning in for another kiss. She then pulled the strap from inside her coat, that was around her neck, and showed him the cell phone, whistle, and pepper spray she always wore when she went out. He really needed to meet her father, knowing that the man was responsible for Sansa never leaving home without some sort of protection.

“I promised Lady a good walk tonight and you need to get your beauty sleep for tomorrow,” she said and Jon smiled, too, lifting his hands to her cheeks.

He couldn’t believe that he could touch her now. Four days of knowing her – and not being able to do anything as he fell fast and hard for her – felt like four years but now, he could do this.

He leaned in for another kiss.

“Will you text me when you get home?” Jon asked.

He still didn’t like the idea of her walking home alone - whether she had Lady with her or not. but she was right. He had to be up extra early tomorrow. He wasn’t the sort to say that they lived in a safe neighborhood. They did but he knew better than most that anything could happen anywhere. Now, Sansa knew that, too.

“I will,” she promised. “Will you call me tomorrow? I know you can’t give me details but can you let me know how it goes either way?”

“I will,” he promised her now. “And we’ll see each other tomorrow?”

Sansa gave him a soft kiss as an answer.

And now, six a.m. – sharp – Jon was knocking on Petyr Baelish’s door. Jaime was with him along with several patrolmen, forensics, and a cadaver dog. Jon held the search warrant that had taken him all day yesterday to type up and get a judge to sign off on. But it was signed and ready to go. Jon knew that Baelish had a lawyer who would go over this warrant with a magnifying glass and fine-tooth comb but there wasn’t a single thing wrong with it.

Jon and Jaime looked at one another as they heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Baelish looked as if he had just been roused from bed, tightening a robe’s belt around his waist, but as soon as he saw the detectives – and everyone else past him – he suddenly looked quite alert.

“Good morning, Mr. Baelish. We have a warrant,” Jon said, holding up the papers for him to see.

Baelish looked confused momentarily and then that oily smile of his spread across his lips. “Good morning, Detectives. A warrant for what?” He held out his hand and Jon passed it to him.

“To search the entire premises. Would you please step aside?” Jon began stepping forward, crowding the man, and reading the warrant, Baelish reluctantly stepped aside so Jon, Jaime and everyone else could enter. “Officer Parker, would you please stay with Mr. Baelish? Make sure he doesn’t go to the bathroom or go to a phone?”

“Yes, Detective,” the officer stepped forward to stand at Baelish’s side.

Everyone spread out after that. Jon took the stairs up two at a time and as soon as he reached the landing, the first door on the left opened a crack. Jon unclipped his badge and held it for her to see. She paused and then opened the door wider.

“How old are you?” He asked before he could stop himself because Christ, she looked too young to be living in Petyr Baelish’s house.

“Twenty.”

“I’m Detective Snow. I’m sorry for waking you so early.” He came to stand in front of her, remaining in the hallway.

“I’m an early riser,” she shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder and Jon could see a man, still snoring away in her bed. Her eyes then darted to her dresser and then she positioned herself so she stood in front of it, blocking Jon’s view.

Jon shook his head. Today, the mirror and lines of cocaine on it were the last things he cared about. “Can I know your name?”

She hesitated – as if she was trying to figure out if there would be a catch in telling him. “Daisy.”

“Daisy, did you know Ros Wallace?”

Daisy swallowed and nodded. “Ros… Ros would look after me. I’m… new to this and Ros kind of took me under her wing, so to speak.”

“Would you mind showing me her room?”

She looked to the stairs, seeing the people moving around below, before looking to Jon again.

Jon kept his face blank but her age bothered him. Legally, she was an adult and Petyr Baelish knew so many important people who basically allowed him to run his prostitution business without fear of whether it was against the law or not. But Daisy had such a young face, it bothered him. She looked like she should still be in high school. Maybe when this was all over, he would run Daisy’s age just to make sure she really was twenty.

Daisy stepped into the hallway and Jon stepped backwards to give her room. Her room was directly across the hall from a closed room and she went to it now, slowly pushing it open. All of the breath in Jon’s lungs exhaled in a great rush when Daisy stepped aside so he could see.

“You’re kidding,” he said more to himself. “When was this cleaned out?”

“Monday,” Daisy said quietly as if she didn’t want to say it at all.

There was a faded square patch on the hardwood floor that let him know that there had been a rug there and the bed was completely stripped. He walked to the dresser and began opening drawers. He then went to the closet. Everything was empty. All of her clothes and possessions were gone.

He looked back to Daisy, who stood in the doorway. “Who cleaned it out?”

She was twisting the sash of her robe around her hands. She swallowed and she looked terrified. “There was the usual maid. Mr. Baelish…”

She trailed off and didn’t finish but Jon didn’t need her to.

He refrained from shouting an expletive. He had wanted to move faster but he had been unable to. He hadn’t had enough for any kind of warrant on Monday and certainly not one that a judge would have signed off on. It had taken him this long to get just enough evidence to make a warrant seem necessary and even then, a day had been wasted, looking for a judge who wasn’t in Baelish’s address book of rendering his services.

There had been nothing he could have done. Hell, he hadn’t even found out Ros’s name straight away. He had come here as soon as he was able.

“Detective.” He looked to Daisy and with the slightest tilt of her head, beckoning him, Jon followed her from the room.

“Get the forensics and the dog up here!” Jon called down the stairs.

He then turned to Daisy and followed her further down the hall. There was a door and she opened it, revealing a closet with linens and towels folded neatly on the shelves.

“Ros was good to me.” Daisy spoke in a whisper so no one could overhear. “I read that there had been cotton fibers found on her.”

“Where did you read that?” Jon couldn’t help but frown. He didn’t think they had released that.

“Online.” She reached in and took a bedsheet – white. “I don’t know if this will help but Mr. Baelish has all of the same sheets on all of the beds and we only ever use white. After a session, before we change them… well, stains from… they’re more noticeable on colored sheets and white doesn’t make it seem so dirty.”

Jon took the bedsheet as if she was handing him a bar of gold. He looked to the young woman.

“Are you really twenty? If you’re not, if you’re younger than what you’re supposed to be, I can help you.”

“I’m twenty,” she said again, more firmly.

Jon still didn’t believe her but he wasn’t going to push it. He’d come back to push it once this case was put to bed.

He looked down to the sheet. The same sheets were used on every bed. Finally. A fucking break. Especially since they felt softer and a much nicer quality than the Target cotton sheets on his own bed. It might be easier to track down purchases. If these fibers matched the fibers found on Ros, he was sure Baelish’s lawyer would argue that anyone could own the same bedsheets that Baelish’s girls used but still. This could be something or lead to something.

“Jon!” His name came from Ros’s bedroom and with a small smile to Daisy, Jon turned and headed back inside. One of the forensics techs was kneeling on the floor with that special light those guys used when searching for blood or other fluids. He lifted his head to look to Jon. “We got a winner.” He pointed to a spot on the floor that had been cleaned away; or what had been _thought_ to have been cleaned away. “Blood.”

“Jaime!” Jon poked his head out the door and looked down the stairs.

Jaime was sipping a cup of coffee – Jon wondered where he had gotten that from – and standing with Baelish, Officer Parker having not even let the man go to sit down. Jaime looked up to Jon.

“We got blood.”

“Oh,” Jaime gave a mock grimace as he looked to Baelish. “That sucks, doesn’t it?”

Baelish didn’t give a thing away as he looked up to Jon and then to Jaime. “I’d like to call my lawyer, if you don’t mind, Detective.”

Jaime nodded knowingly and didn’t hide his smile. “I bet.”

…

Robert had put a rush on the lab work and they all now stood in the observation room as Petyr sat with his lawyer in one of the interrogation rooms, watching them on the computer screen. They didn’t have a two-way mirror like on television. They had cameras in the corner of the interrogation rooms and it could make suspects more comfortable than a big obvious mirror. 

“Did you read him his rights?” Robert asked.

“We didn’t arrest him so there was no need to,” Jon shook his head.

“And he lawyered up anyway,” Robert said, more to himself, watching the man on the screen. He sighed heavily. “Well, find out what you can anyway. Even with the rush, we won’t have lab results back until tomorrow. If need be, we’ll arrest him then.”

Jon and Jaime both nodded and Robert left the room.

“I’m gonna hit the head before we go in there,” Jaime said before following Robert out.

Alone in the observation room, Jon now sat down in one of the chairs, pulling out his cell phone. He looked to the time and he told himself to not bother her. He would see her tonight. There was no need to call her. She had her job and school today and he didn’t _have_ to talk to her.

But Jon’s fingers and brains were clearly in no sort of agreement with one another because he hit the button for her number without giving himself the reasons as to why he should not. It was a little after eight and the bank lobby did not open until eight-thirty. Still, he hoped he wasn’t bothering her as she was in the middle of something.

“Hi!” She answered on the third ring. “Hold on.” He didn’t hear anything but he found himself smiling nonetheless. “Sorry. I was chewing. The bank manager brought in Danishes and I am scarfing down a cheese one before the drive-thru opens.”

Jon kept smiling. “I’m sorry to call while you’re busy.”

“If I was busy, I wouldn’t have picked up. I’m just really surprised to hear from you,” Sansa said. “Giving me as few details as possible, how did this morning go?”

“I’m exhausted and it’s only eight o’clock.” Jon slunk down a little in his seat and turning it, he watched Baelish and his lawyer, talking, on the screen. “We found some things. I’m just hoping that these things will prompt certain people to talk.”

He knew Sansa would have absolutely no idea what he was talking about but nonetheless, it felt good to talk about it out loud.

“And now I have to talk to someone but I already know he isn’t going to say anything. He’s too smart to give himself away in any way.”

Sansa didn’t answer right away and he knew she was chewing and swallowing again.

“So what do you do in that kind of situation?” She asked. “How do you get someone to talk who doesn’t want to talk?”

“I don’t know. Bullshit around. Try to charm him. I don’t know,” he said again.

“But this person is too smart for that?”

“He likes to think so. What do you think?”

“Hmmm.” Sansa was quiet again and Jon heard the quietest sip of a drink from her end. “For my undergrad, I took a few ethnography classes. It’s an off-shot of anthropology and it’s a systematic study of individual cultures.”

“Sure,” Jon gave a nod and she laughed slightly. It made him smile.

“Well, one of my professors taught me this. When I’m studying an individual, the first thing I need to do is put myself behind their eyes.”

“What?”

“See the world the way they see it. Understand why they see the world the way they see it.”

“He’s an asshole who thinks he’s the most important person in the world,” Jon countered.

“Then agree with him. When you talk to him, make sure he knows how important you think he is. You’re a charmer, Detective Snow. Charm him,” Sansa smiled. “You’re also brilliant and I’m sure you know how to talk to people of interest. Why do you need any kind of advice from a lowly graduate student?”

“You’re brilliant,” he said practically as a reflex but he meant it completely.

“Maybe so but I know nothing about police interrogation.”

“Not an interrogation. He hasn’t been arrested so we can’t interrogate someone who hasn’t been arrested. This is just an interview.”

“What would you like to do tonight?” Sansa asked as she switched topics so suddenly, it took Jon a moment to actually register what she had actually said.

He thought for a moment. “I want to meet your parents.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he smiled a little. “I told you with my schedule, I have no idea who lives around me. It’s time I meet some of my neighbors.”

Sansa laughed at that and Jon was still smiling even after they hung up and Jaime came back into the room. Jaime frowned at Jon.

“Well, I’m glad someone is happy about this.”

Jon just shook his head and stood up. “Be charming, Jaime.”

…

If there was a scumbag in the city who needed a lawyer, they all seemed to have Meryn Trant’s card. He was ruthless and there wasn’t an illegal activity he didn’t love to defend. It was no surprise that he was Petyr Baelish’s lawyer.

“Is my client under arrest?” Trant asked as soon as Jon and Jaime entered the room.

“No. Not yet. Does he want to be?” Jon asked as he and Jaime sat down on the other side of the table. He gave Baelish a smile. “I just thought we could talk.”

See the world the way they saw it.

Petyr Baelish was the most important man in the world.

Sansa wasn’t wrong. Jon knew how to interview and interrogate. He normally was good at it. He didn’t have the worst clearance rate in regards to cases in the Homicide Department. But Petyr Baelish was a whole different animal. This man was nothing more than a pimp but he was an _important_ pimp who had so many important people in his back pocket.

And Jon would never show this to anyone but he was a little nervous talking to this guy. Take away all of that other stuff about him and this man was the closest thing Jon had to Ros’s murder right now and that couldn’t be fucked up.

Baelish smiled. “What would you like to talk about, Detective?”

“I was thinking about something. How many girls do you have working for you?” Jon asked.

“You don’t have to answer that, Petyr,” Trant immediately told him.

“We’re not here to bust him for running whores,” Jaime said. “We have more important things to do. We were just wondering.”

“I don’t know how you do it. You have what? Four or five girls living in the house with you? And then ten more girls reporting to you?” Jon leaned back in his chair, making sure Baelish saw how relaxed he was. “How do you handle all of those women and all of those needs that women have? I lived with my girlfriend for about a year and there wasn’t a night I came home where she wasn’t harping at me the second I walked through the door. And that was _one_ girlfriend I had.”

Baelish smiled, chuckling a little. “It’s more like twenty girls. And it can be difficult but it’s also rather simple. I do my best to make sure that they are looked after. That’s all women want. They want to know that someone is taking care of them.”

“The way you took care of Ros?” Jaime jumped in and Jon kicked him lightly under the table.

“My client is not discussing anything about that and if that’s where this is going, we are leaving right now,” Trant frowned heavily.

“Your client knows this doesn’t look good. Ros’s room completely cleaned out. Blood detected on the floor,” Jon looked to Baelish. “All I’m asking for is for you to tell me your side before we get our reports back that don’t tell maybe the complete truth? Maybe they point to you when they really should be pointing at someone else? I saw how you first looked when I showed you Ros’s picture. I know you cared for her.”

Baelish seemed to think on that for a moment and then looked to Trant. Neither said anything but then Baelish gave the slightest head nod.

“Do you know a man of Janos Slynt?” Baelish asked both men.

Jon and Jaime shook their heads.

“Who is Janos Slynt?” Jaime asked.

“He is an executive at City Watch Records and is one of my most loyal clients. And he always wished to see no one but Ros.”

Jon nodded. “I heard that Ros had an amazing singing voice.”

“She did. She truly did. And Janos Slynt wanted to help her bring that voice to millions.”

“Did Janos Slynt have something to do with this?” Jon asked.

“No. But when word got out that Ros might be leaving her current job, that didn’t make a lot of my other clients happy.”

Jon leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes never leaving Baelish. “And one of those unhappy men… Roose Bolton?”

Baelish hesitated for a moment. “I know Roose was interested in marrying the woman.”

“That probably pissed off even more clients, right?” Jaime guessed.

“Roose Bolton is a very wealthy man. And if he was to marry, that might give his new wife access to all of his funds.” Baelish paused. “Funds that could have gone to his children instead.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I'm so happy that so many are enjoying this story!
> 
> I don't want to give too much away but Ramsay would be _too_ easy to make him the murderer, don't you think? lol
> 
> Jon, Ned and Catelyn all meet in the next chapter.
> 
> (Also, there is a massive flaw in this story and I just want to say it before someone possibly points it out. Sansa would be considered a witness for the time being and as lead detective with this case, Jon could NEVER start a relationship with a witness. But thankfully, this is a story of fiction and I can change a few things lol)


	13. Two Mature Adults

…

**Thirteen.** Two Mature Adults.

She would think she would be nervous and could very well remember how nervous she had been when her parents met Harry as her boyfriend that first time but instead, waiting for Jon to come over tonight, Sansa felt excited. Ridiculously excited.

She wasn’t entirely sure why. After all, Jon was her boyfriend now for one whole day and he would be meeting her parents tonight already. That was a move of warp speed, she knew, and yet, at the same time, for whatever reason, it also felt right. Perhaps it was because of the intense and horrible situation in which they had met. Sharing something like that, it sounded strange and somewhat unbelievable but it truly did have the power to bring people together.

It might have been an odd – or even a wrong – way to start a relationship with someone but just thinking of their night together last night, eating empanadas and watching _Boogie Nights_ with the many kisses in between, it had been long time since Sansa had felt happy like that. And it hadn’t just been happiness. It had been contentment. In that moment, in her opinion, there had been absolutely nothing wrong in her life.

(She had had so many moments of happiness with Harry, of course, but she couldn’t actually recall any moments of absolute contentment.)

She made sure that her parents knew she was having a dinner guest come over that evening.

“ _Please_ don’t make a big deal about it,” she then was quick to add. “I just want tonight to be him meeting you and you meeting him. _Casually_.”

Again, Sansa knew she should have felt nervous about this now that she knew how her parents had truly felt about her relationship with Harry but once again, she wasn’t. Was she that confident in her feelings for Jon and his feelings for her after just knowing each other a handful of days that she just knew her parents would like him? That was certainly what it seemed like.

“Of course it’ll be casual,” Ned frowned. “I’ll just go hang up the tuxedo I planned on wearing and Cat, put the candelabras away.”

Sansa laughed and rolled her eyes and made sure that she sent Jon a text – or several – to emphasize to him that tonight was casual. Jeans kind of casual. She didn’t call him, not wanting to interrupt him that day. If he was busy, he just wouldn’t pick up, she knew, but she didn’t to call him at all because even the ringing phone would possibly distract him.

She knew that today was an important day for both him and the investigation and she could only hope that it was going the way he wanted it to. If he didn’t want to come over tonight, she would completely understand but so far, Jon hadn’t changed their plans.

She made sure that Catelyn wasn’t going too overboard with dinner. Catelyn loved to be in the kitchen and could sometimes get rather ambitious when it came to creating new dishes for her family to try but Sansa didn’t want tonight to be one of those nights. Casual was the word of the night in the Stark home.

“Shake-and-bake pork chops, wild rice and asparagus,” Catelyn let her know when Sansa asked. She didn’t even try to hide her amused smile as she looked at her daughter with a raised eyebrow. “Is that good?”

Sansa honestly took a moment to think on it. “Yes,” she finally decided. “I just want-” she began to say before cutting herself off abruptly. “He’s already important to me,” she then said almost in a whisper and only able to meet her mom’s eyes for just a moment. “I know it’s crazy. I just met him. I just broke up with Harry.”

“Life is like that, Sansa,” Catelyn gently cut in. “Life is made up of moments and every time you blink your eyes, you find yourself in a new one.” She looked down at the meal she was putting together before looking to Sansa. “I’m really excited to meet him,” she then said with a smile.

Sansa seemed to exhale a deep breath and smiled, too. “I’m really excited for you to meet him. I hope you like him.”

“Do you like him?” Catelyn asked, smiling because she already knew the answer.

Sansa just smiled, her cheeks feeling red just from the question. The doorbell rang then and Lady immediately began barking and Sansa gasped before she could stop herself. Catelyn let out a laugh but Sansa hardly heard it as she raced from the kitchen down the hall to the front door.

“Hi!” She said as soon as she swung it open and saw him standing on the front porch.

He looked tired but his smile was warm and true. “Hi,” he said and seemed completely prepared – and not at all surprised – when Sansa pushed open the storm door so she could throw her arms around his neck. His arms wound around her waist and he held her tight and close. “Hmmm. Hi.”

Sansa closed her eyes and smiled to herself. “Come in,” she smiled at him and taking his hand, she led him into the house. “And I’ll take your coat.”

Lady was dancing around Jon’s legs, happy to see him in _her_ house this time and Sansa went to go hang up his coat and scarf while he crouched down, making sure he greeted Lady properly.

“This casual enough?” He asked, standing up again, and Sansa looked to his jeans and the black sweater he was wearing. His hair was also down that evening.

Sansa smiled. “You look wonderful,” she answered truthfully. “You ready for this?”

Jon didn’t say anything. He just held out his hand and she let out a quiet laugh, taking it with hers. She wanted to ask him about his day and how it had gone but even if she wanted to know – which she wanted to, desperately – she knew he wouldn’t be able to tell her. She just hoped that everything had gone as well as it could have gone for him.

She led him down the hallway back into the kitchen where her dad and Rickon had now joined her mom. Catelyn stood at the stove, checking on the rice, and Ned was taking out the jug of apple juice from the refrigerator.

“But dad! Everyone goes there to hang out. You know that!” Rickon was whining. “You’ve let me go all of the time before. Why can’t I go now?”

“Because we’re going to have dinner and then you have a German test to study for,” Ned said.

“I can study at the coffee shop!”

“Yeah, I’m sure a lot of studying goes on while you’re hanging out there with your friends. A regular meeting of the minds.”

“Mom. Dad,” Sansa spoke over the noise. “This is Jon Snow.”

Catelyn and Ned immediately turned their heads to look at him. Sansa didn’t let go of his hand and she looked to Jon to see that he was smiling at her parents. And they were smiling back.

“Jon, these are my parents, Ned and Catelyn Stark. And this is my youngest brother, Rickon.”

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” Jon said with the slightest dip of his head.

“It is so nice to meet you, Jon,” Catelyn was smiling.

Ned came around the island counter to shake Jon’s hand with a smile. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s better looking than Harry,” Rickon said, also pouring himself a glass of apple juice. “Dad, if I study for my German test now until dinner, can I then go to the coffee shop after dinner for a couple of hours?”

Ned looked to the timer on the oven. “You will then have eight minutes to study. Try again.”

“Would you like something to drink, Jon?” Catelyn offered.

“Would you like a glass of wine? I was going to have a glass,” Sansa said.

“Wine sounds great,” Jon said on an exhale of a deep breath. “I could use it.”

Sansa saw an opening so she took it. “Did it go as well as it could today?” She went to get two wine glasses from the cabinet and glanced to her mom, who nodded, and she got a glass for Catelyn as well.

“It could have gone better. I got more suspects today instead of less.”

Her parents had an electric wine bottle opener and after choosing a bottle of red wine, Sansa now took it, watching Jon as she got the bottle ready. “I’m sorry,” she said to Jon because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

She had had her hopes up, too, for today – that Jon would be able to solve Ros’s murder and put an end to this and she could feel his disappointment, too, because it matched her own though she knew his was far greater than hers. He, after all, was the one working day and night on this. 

“Is Sansa safe?” Ned suddenly asked and everyone looked to him. “What I mean is, she’s staying here with us, but I know she’s been missing her apartment. Would she be safe going back there? I, personally, don’t want her taking Lady for walks in that neighborhood, at night, by herself.”

“I don’t want her to do that either,” Jon shook his head.

Sansa didn’t say anything to that and she refrained from rolling her eyes at them both. She set a glass of wine down in front of Jon and then handed her mom another.

She knew where they were coming from and she understood. She wasn’t necessarily planning on taking Lady for walks anywhere near Brighton Park – especially at night – for a very long time. If she was to go back to her apartment, she’d be walking her dog in the opposite direction.

“And I can’t get too much into it,” Jon continued. “But I will say that the higher-ups within the department have increased patrol units in the Brighton Park neighborhood.”

“How many dead bodies have you seen?” Rickon asked bluntly, looking too excited for what Jon’s answer might be. Rickon loved watching crime shows on TV and when Sansa had told him about what Jon Snow did for a living, Rickon was instantly at high-interest levels. 

Sansa frowned at her brother. “Rickon,” she said and Ned and Catelyn matched her frowns.

“What?” Rickon shrugged with complete innocence. “There’s no way I’m the first person to ever ask him that. Am I the first person to ever ask you that?” He asked Jon.

“You’re not,” Jon smiled a little before taking a sip of wine. “I always find people’s curiosity with it a little weird though.”

“And morbid,” Catelyn gave her son a look but Rickon just grinned at her.

Jon took a sip of his wine. “I’ve seen enough,” he answered and that was all he said about it.

“I’m going to show Jon the family room,” Sansa informed them all. She peeked to the timer counting down on the oven until the pork chops were done. They had almost five minutes.

She, of course, didn’t really have to show Jon anything but she just wanted to talk with him away from parents and little brothers because she hadn’t been able to see him since last night and already, seeing Jon was one of her favorite things.

Holding her wine glass in one hand, she took Jon’s with her other and led him away. It was an open space between the kitchen and family room so she couldn’t plant a kiss on him like she wanted to – not with her family in plain view – but she would still tell him that that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

“Yeah?” Jon’s face broke into a grin after she whispered it to him. “I suppose it would be rather obvious to your family what we were going to be up to if I invited you to spend the night tonight?” He then asked and her grin matched his own.

“I am an adult,” she reminded him. “An adult who just happens to live with her parents for the moment but still very much an adult.”

“Still… I just met your parents and I don’t want them to think that I’m some pervert.”

Sansa laughed at that and Jon smiled at her with his eyes as he took a sip of wine. “I can be the pervert instead if you want.”

Jon glanced then into the kitchen to see if her parents had somehow overheard that comment but instead, Rickon was setting the table and Ned and Catelyn were talking about that night’s weather and the couple of inches of snow the city was predicted to get. He then looked back to Sansa and there was something in his eyes that gave Sansa’s stomach a tug.

She was still getting to know this man and she would need to learn what all of his looks meant but Jon was a man and she liked to think that this look was one all men had in common.

And then, because she couldn’t help herself, Sansa leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the lips. Jon looked pained that she did that and she pursed her lips together to keep from giggling. And seeing her smiling at him, Jon exhaled a breath and smiled, too. He brought his forehead to rest against hers for a moment, pulling back when the oven timer began to beep.

Sansa turned her head to look into the kitchen and she saw both of her parents watching them; not even trying to hide it. And both had the same smiles on their faces.

…

She understood what Jon meant. She didn’t exactly want her parents to know that she was going to Jon’s carriage house to spend the night because neither were idiots and they would know exactly what she and Jon would be doing together that night. And yet, she had lived with Harry for a year and they had obviously done things together.

Was she moving quickly with Jon? God, yes. She knew that. She was sure that Jon knew it, too. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to slow down. Would she get her heart broken? Maybe. That was always a chance when entering a new relationship and Sansa told herself to not fall for this man so fast but that already seemed to be happening and there was nothing to stop it.

She had never meant anyone like Jon Snow before. Maybe it was because most of the men in her life, she had met them in high school or college and no matter how old they were, Sansa looked to them still as boys because that’s how they were when they first entered her life. Jon Snow was a man – intelligent, hardworking, not to mention ridiculously handsome. He just seemed so mature and she wondered if a part of that had to do with what he did for a living.

How could a person look at dead body after dead body and not be mature?

She had to wonder what he saw when he looked at her. Despite being in school – for her Masters, yes, but still a student – she hoped he looked at her and thought she was mature, too.

And what did a mature young woman do? She told her parents when she was going over to her boyfriend’s place for a few hours. And that was exactly what Sansa did.

…

Sansa didn’t want to say that they fell into bed but…

That was kind of what exactly happened.

She hadn’t seen Jon’s bedroom before – her time here just spent in the living room, kitchen and quick trips to the bathroom – and she didn’t even really see it tonight. She knew she would but for now, her arms were around Jon and his were around her as he kept his lips fused to hers, guiding her to where he wanted them both to go.

They lost clothes along the way, falling to the floor, and when Sansa felt the softness of his bed beneath her, she was just wearing her underwear. Opening her eyes, she saw that the lamp on the bedside table was on from earlier when Jon had come home to change, and she almost gasped when she got her first look at Jon’s naked body.

He was… _magnificent_. His body was muscular and well-defined and Sansa had the strongest urge to sit up and start kissing every inch of it. It was instantly almost intimidating of how perfect he looked and she began to cross her arms over her bare chest because she did _not_ look nearly as flawless as him. But she stopped when she saw Jon’s face as he stared at her; taking her all in for the first time. He had the same look he had had in her parent’s family room just a couple of hours earlier.

It made Sansa’s arms stop before they could finish covering her breasts from his view. She felt a surge within her chest and instead of hiding from him, she relaxed completely onto his bed. Her heart pounded and her stomach knotted, waiting for him to make his next move.

His hands slid up her thighs then and she lifted her hips, letting him slowly pull her underwear down so she was as naked as he was and once she was, that was when he finally slowly crawled onto the bed. She closed her eyes, exhaling a sigh of pleasure, as his lips trailed up one of her thighs to her hip and then across to her stomach. Her fingers found his hair, gripping black curls, and his hands held her hips. His tongue dipped into her bellybutton and he smiled against her stomach when she laughed at how it tickled her.

“Do you really want to do that?” She had to ask him.

(She was _not_ thinking of Harry at all tonight but when she felt the direction in which Jon was moving, she had to ask because while Harry had done that for her, it hadn’t been ever exactly done with the utmost enthusiasm.)

Jon lifted his eyes to look up her body to her face. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, no!” Sansa answered quickly. “I… do. I just… you don’t have to- Do you have a washcloth? I can go into the bathroom real quick and clean-”

Jon didn’t even let her finish that before he put his mouth on her. The moan that rose from her throat was instant and her eyes slid closed as she melted into the bed once again.

She kept her eyes closed but she felt every move he made. His hands were warm on her thighs as he spread them open and she moaned softly as she felt each breath exhaled on her skin. She gasped and her back arched off the bed when he licked her with the flat of his tongue, her fingers gripping his hair. She realized she was probably hurting him but she really didn’t care when he first had his tongue circling her clit, over and over again, her entire body already starting to tingle.

“Jon,” but that was all she was able to say and she felt his fingers slowly spread her open, the air of the bedroom cold against her heat. His hands clamped down on her hips, keeping her pinned to the bed and then his mouth was on her again and his tongue was _inside_ , tasting her, licking her, driving her to the brink already.

Her thighs pressed against his ears and her nails dug into his scalp. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her, as he used his entire mouth to pleasure her – the way her chest heaved up and down as she tried to breathe, the hard points of her nipples, her thighs trembling ever so slightly and the flush of her skin dotted with beads of sweat.

Sansa’s hands dropped from his hair to fist in the bed sheets, her body twisting on the bed. She reminded herself that although Jon lived in an apartment above a garage removed from the main house, there was still a fifteen-year-old boy who lived in that house and Sansa wanted to be quiet. She would be mortified if anyone heard what Jon was doing to her.

When Jon fastened his lips to her clit and sucked, that was it. Sansa’s back bowed clear off the bed and she cried out, her body shaking with orgasm. She grabbed one of the pillows and bit the corner of it as she came. Her body exploded with heat and every nerve in her body ignited, standing on edge, tingling, making her shake. It had been a long time since her body had gone through something like that. When it passed, her body still trembled and her chest heaved up and down as she felt Jon press kisses first to her thighs and then up her body – her stomach and ribs and each breast before reaching her neck. Her hands ran up his back and his body settled between her legs.

Their lips met and she knew Jon could feel her lips shake against his.

She had already told him she was on birth control on their walk over from one house to this one because Jon had been thinking out loud, knowing he had a condom somewhere in his place.

“I can still wear one,” he said as he pulled out his keys to unlock the front door.

Sansa had smiled at that, her body already humming with what was going to happen once they were inside. “I want to feel you,” she had told him softly.

They kept their eyes open, staring at one another, as they kissed again, her hands sliding to the back of his head and neck and he reached between, stroking his painfully hard cock. And then slowly, he slid inside of Sansa, feeling her body accept him and then wrap around him tightly soaked and so hot. They both moaned softly and he gave himself a moment to revel in her tightness squeezing him. 

“Oh, Jon,” she sighed as he sank entirely inside of her. She felt him pulse inside of her and he was so hard and thick, she moaned just lying there. “Ohhh, god.” Jon lowered himself, using his hands to support his upper body above her, and he drew back slowly before driving in again, gently, filling her, the friction between them causing Sansa to lift her hips to meet his.

She moaned with each penetration. He was moving so slowly, she could feel every inch, ridge and vein of him inside of her. It honestly wasn’t what she was expecting. Hard and fast for their first time, the speed in which they had moved from meeting to being here. But this wasn’t that at all. This was the best. It was slow – still full and firm but still gentle. It was incredible. _He_ was incredible and it had been so long for her since it had felt like this. Jon delved deeper inside of her, angling his penetrations so Sansa could feel as much of him as possible, and then holding still for a long moment before withdrawing and doing it all over again.

Her moans were soft and continuous and her hands clung to his back. Jon kissed her, both his tongue and cock delved deep, and Sansa’s hands slid down his back to his hips, her entire mind and body lost to this. He slid against her, their skin hot and sweaty, and he pressed to her, not slowing down or speeding up but just taking his time.

With one more kiss, Jon then pushed himself up to his knees, gently pulling Sansa’s thighs around his waist and staring at her body as he continued taking her, occasionally looking down to where their bodies met. She sighed and moaned with pleasure as his body rocked against hers. He wound his hips, turning his pelvis, and he felt her tightening, getting closer and closer to that edge. And when she was standing right there, he seemed to know it and he thrusted, pushing her off before rushing down to catch her.

When Sansa came, Jon didn’t seem that far behind though she certainly wasn’t counting his thrusts and as she clung around him so tightly, he poured himself deeply inside of her, his own body trembling and shaking, and when they both collapsed on the bed, their limbs tangling, their sweaty skin sticking together. His face was pressed to the crook of her neck and she panted, exhaling heavily on his forehead and her arms clinging around him.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much! A filler chapter, I admit, but I hope you liked it. 
> 
> In the next chapter, the morning after. Jon will send Sansa in a helpful direction for her thesis and Sansa will talk about a certain guy in the anthropology department who creeps her out.


	14. Gut Feelings

…

**Fourteen.** Gut Feelings.

They took a break and laid in bed, talking and Jon smiling because Sansa couldn’t stop playing with his hair, and then came together one more time before they put themselves together so Jon could walk her back home. Sansa had had no problem with telling her parents that she was going back to Jon’s place for a couple of hours but she had found it a bit more challenging to tell them that she would be spending the night.

“Tomorrow,” Sansa told him as he kissed her good-night on her parents’ front porch.

“Tomorrow,” he echoed in agreement.

Returning to his place and looking at the bed with the tangle of sheets, Jon didn’t know how he’d be able to get any sleep while his entire place now smelled of Sansa. He fully expected to spend the next few hours, wired and in slight agony (and lust) but instead, with an exhaustion that hit him quite suddenly, Jon all but dropped face down onto the bed and went straight off to sleep.

To no surprise to him, he dreamt of Sansa. And her red hair.

She was in front of him, walking away so he couldn’t see her face but Jon knew that it was Sansa. He would know her hair anywhere, even after just this short amount of time. She was walking and wouldn’t stop, even when he called her name, and he kept following after her. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her hair and the way it moved along her shoulders and down her back. A breeze was blowing in his dream and it danced through some strands.

But then, like it happened in dreams, he was suddenly somewhere else and he knew exactly where he was. Brighton Park. It was dark and cold and the grass was wet from a rain. Sansa was no longer walking in front of him but Jon seemed to know where he was going. And then he saw her, lying on the ground, face down, her red hair tangled around her and hiding her face. Jon didn’t need to see her face though. He already knew.

It was Sansa.

Jon’s eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly, his heart racing in his chest. He looked to the clock on the bedside table. Just a few minutes after five. He didn’t even try to lay down again. His heart was still pounding and he pulled himself into the bathroom, his eyes squinting for a moment as he flipped the switch on. Bending over the sink, he splashed cold water on his face and urged his heart to slow the Hell down.

It had just been a bad dream. A Hell of a bad dream but a dream all the same. He wanted to call Sansa but he wasn’t going to. She was fine. She was safe, two doors down at her parents’ house, and she was _fine_. He would talk to her later.

It had already been decided that the red hair that Sansa and Ros shared was an unfortunate coincidence. He had thought that perhaps, Ros was the start of something and there would be another victim turning up – maybe one with red hair, maybe not – but the more Jon was lost in this investigation and studied over his list of suspects, his feelings began to change and he saw that Ros was, unfortunately, just the victim of someone’s jealousy and anger.

He took a long hot shower and then found a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that could go for another wearing before he washed them. He knotted a blue tie around his neck and went into the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. He would get down to the office and start the day early. Nothing wrong with that. If he couldn’t get back to sleep, and it was too early to see Sansa, going to work seemed like the logical thing to do.

Jon had to solve Ros’s murder and soon. Otherwise, it was going to drive him crazy.

…

After showing the receptionist their badges and waiting for a few minutes, Jon and Jaime were shown into Janos Slynt’s office at City Watch Records. The man stood from his desk and smiled at them both but Jon did not confuse this man’s smile for kindness. The more men Jon saw and met who had been in Ros’s life, the worse he felt for this woman.

Jon didn’t know how she had slept with all of these men without throwing up. Or maybe she had.

Unfortunately, Janos Slynt had a rock-solid alibi. He had been down in Miami for a business trip for the past two weeks. The man provided plane ticket stubs, hotel receipts and the names of a few people who had also been down in Miami with him and could verify his whereabouts.

Jon was silent as he sat in the passenger seat and Jaime drove them into the drive-thru lane. Second time this week that Jon was going to be eating McDonald’s but he wasn’t going to be dwelling on that. He had to eat something for lunch and he was going to take his Big Mac, go back to his desk and he was going to start with his investigation file from the very beginning.

Jaime looked over to him, seeing Jon’s elbow bent and his head resting against his fist. “What’s wrong, Snow?” He asked as he popped a cigarette into his mouth and flicked open his lighter.

Jon shook his head and didn’t say anything.

“What’s wrong, Snow?” Jaime asked again and reached over as if to pinch his cheek and Jon fought back a smile, whacking Jaime’s hand away.

This time, Jon sighed heavily. “I want to talk to Roose Bolton again,” he said, looking to his partner. “What do you think?”

Jaime turned his head, blowing his smoke out the crack of the open window, inching forward in the line. He looked to Jon. “You have a reason?”

“My gut.”

“And Robert’s never going to let you get a Judge in an interview room because of your fucking gut and you know that. What about his son? You got a feeling when you talked to that one. What was his name? Ransom or something.”

“Ramsey,” Jon answered. “And yeah. I didn’t like the feel of him but nothing more than just being creepy as Hell. And he had a pretty solid alibi, too. Studying in his dorm room. His roommate and three others on his floor verified. I can’t shake this feeling about Roose though.”

They were next to the intercom and Jaime ordered them both Big Mac meals with Cokes. Jon pulled his wallet from his inside coat pocket. It was his turn for him to cover their lunches.

“So why Roose?” Jaime asked.

“Who do you think did it?” Jon asked him instead.

“Baelish but honestly, it’s just because I hate the guy and want to nail him for something.” Jon smirked at that and Jaime chuckled as he exhaled more smoke. “So why Roose?”

“First Shae and then Baelish and now Janos Slynt just confirmed it. Ros was working on getting out.”

“But Roose wanted to marry her. I would think a Judge would want a wife who _wasn’t_ a prostitute. If anything, this is just pointing to Baelish – with or without my hate for the man.”

Jon turned a little more in his seat, silently telling Jaime to go on.

“Ros was one of the most beautiful of his girls and one of his most popular. She was a big moneymaker for him. Big. If she was really going to be getting out, wouldn’t it piss off the person who made the most money from her?”

Jon was quiet, thinking on that, vaguely hearing Jaime pay and get change, dropping it into Jon’s lap. He then moved up to the next window to collect their bag of food and drinks.

That _did_ make sense, Jon knew, but his initial thought in regards to Petyr Baelish when he heard the man was involved with Ros’s life was still the same today. Petyr Baelish was not the sort to do something like this. A piece of shit scum bucket? Absolutely. But was he the sort to cut a woman’s throat so deeply, he almost took her head off with it and then cut her face, too? Not to mention, he was too weak of a man – physically – to carry Ros’s dead body and dump her in the park. The man just didn’t have it in him.

He was a dirty man but unlike so many others of the same sort, he didn’t play in the dirt.

He kept coming back to Roose. Maybe Ros trying to get out of her line of work meant – to her – leaving it _all_ behind, including a man who said he wanted to marry her. It took two people to get married and just because Roose wanted to marry her might not necessarily mean that Ros would want to marry him. Maybe she was going to leave him, too.

Jaime was right though. As a Judge, Roose was practically untouchable. If Jon ever wanted to talk to Roose again, he would need a damn good reason. Or undeniable proof of something.

…

He was so deep in his file, notes and working on that night’s timeline, that when someone knocked their knuckles lightly on his desk, his head jerked up so fast, he almost flew back from his chair.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa cringed. “I was actually trying to _not_ startle you.”

Jon blinked, as if double-checking that she was really there. He then looked to his watch. Holy shit, it was past six already. He shook his head slightly.

“Fuck me,” he stood up with a groan and stretched his arms behind him, cracking his back. He then leaned in and with his hands on her cheeks, he gave her a sound kiss that left her smiling.

“How’s it going?” Sansa asked, glancing down to his desk before him.

Jon just shook his head. What could he tell her? He had gut feelings but gut feelings didn’t solve murders and even if he knew – without a doubt – who killed Ros, he would need concrete evidence to even think of going after a Judge. And the thing was, a detective could know without a doubt who was responsible for a murder but if they didn’t have the evidence, nothing could be done. That was how a person got away with murder. Not because it had been perfect. There was no such thing as the absolute perfect murder. They got away with it because the evidence wasn’t there and the DA didn’t want to pursue charges, knowing they wouldn’t win.

Jon couldn’t tell Sansa any of that. Most people believed in justice and bad people getting their just punishment but the harsh truth was that didn’t always happen. He couldn’t tell Sansa that even if he figured out who murdered Ros, there was a possibility that nothing would happen.

“How were your classes today?” He asked her instead of answering her question.

“Good. And they got even better once you sent me that text,” she smiled. “Will Jaime really help me?” She asked as Jon took one of her hands and led her away from his desk and out of his cubicle, leading them towards the break room.

It was quiet that evening.

“He’s going to take you to someone who can then take you to some women in this particular line of work,” Jon nodded and looking at her, seeing her still smiling, he smiled, too. When they were at the coffee machine, he turned back towards her and his arms went around her. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful. I need you to promise me that.”

“Of course I’ll be careful,” Sansa said without a moment’s hesitation. “This is something I have to do though if this is what I’m writing my thesis on,” she then reminded him. “I can’t write my paper on this if I don’t do this.”

“I get it,” he nodded and he did. But that didn’t mean that he would be comfortable with the idea of Sansa going out there, spending time with prostitutes as they worked their strips of street.

Not even a week since he met her and already, what the Hell would he do without her?

She would be fine. He knew she would. It wasn’t as if Sansa was getting into cars with any of the Johns(*) who came rolling past. She would get her interviews and her research and that would be that. Still though… prostitutes didn’t exactly hang out in the best neighborhoods.

(But Ros had and look at what happened to her.)

Sansa leaned in, breaking through his thoughts, and gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. “I can’t thank you enough for thinking to ask Jaime if he could help me.”

“When I was in patrol, I had a few incidents but Jaime worked Vice for a couple of years. And his sister-in-law-” Jon cut himself off. “He’d be more help than me in this particular world.” He gave Sansa a kiss. “Want something to eat? Homicide Department has some of the best vending machines in the city.” He swept an arm along the back wall where said machines were lined.

Sansa laughed at that and he smiled. He pulled out a dollar for her, which she took.

As she went to go inspect these so-called amazing vending machines, Jon fixed himself a cup of coffee.

“M&Ms?” He asked and for some reason, he almost laughed.

Sansa smiled and turned back to him with her bag of candy and holding the change. “I’m not allowed to like M&Ms?”

“With the amount of grief you gave me over eating Ramen, I thought you would have gone for the healthier granola bar or box of raisins.”

“I think even the M&Ms are healthier for you than Ramen,” she smiled. She held out her hand for him to take the coins back but he shook his head.

“Go nuts. Treat yourself again.”

This time, she chose a bottle of water. “You are so sweet to me,” she told him with a smile and he smiled around the rim of his paper coffee cup. “And I love M&Ms. I have a container in my desk drawer at the bank that I munch on throughout the day. A terrible habit but I figure there are worse things I could be doing to myself.”

Jon smiled at that. It was something so small about her but it was one of the best things he had ever heard. He couldn’t wait to hear more things like that about her.

Back in his and Jaime’s cubicle, Sansa settled herself down in the chair next to Jon’s desk as he sat down in his chair. He sipped his coffee and began moving things around so Sansa couldn’t see more than she should. But Sansa wasn’t even looking at his desk. Instead, she was looking at two pictures he had tacked to his wall.

“Is that your dog?” She asked.

He looked to the picture, too – he and Ghost, his all-white Malamute. “Yeah.” He couldn’t even really look at the picture but he couldn’t bring himself to take it down. Ghost was still alive, somewhere out there, and if Jon took the picture down and put it away, it would be like Jon now thought something else.

“I don’t know what I would do if Lady ran away,” she said quietly.

Jon didn’t say anything to that. He honestly couldn’t even really talk about his dog. It still hurt like Hell and every day, he hoped that somehow, Ghost found his way home again. Ghost wasn’t a stupid dog, by any means, and Jon knew that he must have been somewhere, doing something, that he _couldn’t_ leave to get back home. Not yet.

“And is that your mom?” Sansa asked, regarding the second picture.

Again, Jon looked to the picture of him and his mom at one of his basketball games in junior high. Both of her arms were around his shoulders and she was hugging him tight. Her smile was so happy and she just looked so proud of him. That picture made him ache, too, but in a completely different way.

It killed him to admit but so many years had passed now, he couldn’t even really remember her voice anymore.

He gave a single nod.

“You look just like her,” Sansa gave him the smallest smile and he managed a small smile, too. She looked to the picture again, for another moment. “The man who… is he…”

“He got life. He was up for parole a few years ago and I went to the hearing but he didn’t even want to be considered for it.” Jon still had the letter he had written for the parole board to keep him locked up. He hadn’t even been able to look at him and he hadn’t been able to look at Jon in return.

Sansa fell quiet again, still looking at the two pictures, and he wondered what she was thinking but he didn’t want to ask. She took a sip of her water and Jon went back to looking at his files.

Roose had lied about the song. “Nothin’ in the world can stop me worryin’ ‘bout that girl” by The Kinks had played on the radio at 10:08 on Sunday night. Sansa had been walking Lady in the park and had heard it. She found Ros and called 911 at 10:11. The car that had dumped Ros’s body had _just_ left when Sansa came upon the scene.

But Roose said he was still with Ros and heard that song at 9:45. Why lie about that? That was too specific. Surely, Roose figured that Jon would be able to check on that; unless he just assumed that Jon was some bumbling detective who couldn’t check on that.

Had the man made a mistake? It was a stupid mistake but it was one a smart man like the Judge had still made. Because if he was still with Ros at 9:45, that might mean that he was still with her at 10:08 and that meant that either Roose Bolton slit Ros’s throat or he was in the room when someone else had.

How the fuck was Jon going to get the man to admit that? He was a Judge. He might have made a stupid slip of a mistake but he was far from an idiot.

He looked to Sansa. She was chewing on an M&M and looking around at the rest of his and Jaime’s cubicle. Not the cleanest of places but she hardly seemed to notice the mess as she took note of everything.

He wondered if she had any ideas. He couldn’t discuss open investigations with her and he didn’t want to drag her further into this one than she already was but Sansa was smart. Damn smart. And if he laid it out for her, maybe she would see something he wasn’t. Maybe she would use her anthropology studies – somehow – to come at it from a different angle.

No. Jon couldn’t do that. He had solved cases on his own without help and this case would have to be done the same.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! 
> 
> And I am so f-ing excited for the next chapter, I can't even tell you. Sansa meets Shae and Shae takes her to meet some women for her thesis research. 
> 
> * Johns = nickname/street term for clients of prostitutes


	15. The Girls

…

**Fifteen.** The Girls.

“She’s beautiful,” Sansa smiled, looking at Shae’s daughter as Jaime took it upon himself to toss his niece into the air and catch her, the little girl laughing with absolute delight.

“Thank you,” Shae smiled, proud. “Thankfully, she looks like me,” she added and Sansa laughed. “Hopefully, she won’t hold me responsible for her name when she’s older but there was just no swaying my husband away from it.”

“Her name’s beautiful, too,” Sansa told her.

Naming a daughter Mina after _Dracula_ was hardly the worst name Sansa had ever heard parents giving their children nowadays. Mina didn’t even make the list.

Shae made sure that Sansa didn’t want anything to drink and then took the next few minutes say goodbye to Mina and telling Uncle Jaime what he should and should not do with her; a lot more time spent on the should not’s, Sansa noted.

“Tyrion will be back around ten, or so he thinks,” Shae said as she moved towards the front door, bringing Sansa with her. “Mina _needs_ to be in bed by eight-thirty, Jaime. She’s going to cry and want to wait up for daddy but you need to be the adult and not the cool uncle.”

“Can’t I be both?” Jaime asked innocently, now holding her hands and swinging her back and forth, Mina’s laughter, once again, squealing throughout the apartment. Shae rolled her eyes and went to go kiss her daughter just one more time – or five. “Hey,” Jaime then said, his face completely serious as he looked to Sansa. “I know Shae is going to look out for you but be careful. Jon will never forgive me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sansa said with as much confidence as she could gather and even managed a smile.

She was nervous and scared but she wouldn’t let that on. She knew her parents and Jon were already both of those things enough for everyone and Sansa needed to face tonight with as much bravery as being a Stark allotted to her. She knew being a jumble of every emotion was perfectly understandable with what she had to do tonight and while she needed to do this, she also _wanted_ to do this. She was excited for her thesis paper and she knew that it could be absolutely amazing.

And there was only one way to write a thesis paper on prostitution and the violence that seemed to always surround them and that was to go and actually talk with them and learn their lives.

This was all because of Ros.

If she hadn’t found Ros, she wouldn’t have met Jon who, in turn, brought her to meet Jaime and he introduced her to his sister-in-law, Shae Lannister, who was going to be Sansa’s tour guide for the lack of another term. And it was also because of Ros that she had changed her topics in the first place and was now writing this thesis.

She felt like she was _meant_ to write this thesis and though Ros wouldn’t be the focus, it would be for Ros nonetheless.

She hadn’t known what to wear tonight. What exactly was the dress code for meeting prostitutes and standing with them as they worked? Black jeans, a black sweater, her winter coat, and black boots. Nothing revealing or sexy and nothing that would draw attention to herself. Her hair was worn pulled back in a simple French braid. She was immensely relieved when she met Shae and saw that she was basically wearing the same thing – though her jeans weren’t black and her sweater was green underneath her dark blue winter coat.

Sansa was, of course, also wearing her pepper spray and whistle around her neck.

“So, we’re going to The Cedric Hotel first,” Shae said as she drove out of the apartment’s parking garage with Sansa in the passenger seat. Sansa wasn’t sure what look was on her face – pure unadulterated fear, perhaps? – because Shae looked to her and gave her a small smile. “No worries. You’re not going to be out of my sight and I’ll protect you.”

Sansa had lived in this city her entire life and had never been anywhere near the vicinity of the Cedric but that didn’t mean she didn’t know it. _Everyone_ knew the Cedric. It was in a bad neighborhood and it had a bad reputation. People had died there – suicides, overdoses, even more than few murders over the years. People said something evil lived in those walls.

Jon had wanted to come tonight – of course he had – but Jon also knew that he wouldn’t.

“Even without my badge, they’ll know and they’ll act differently around me,” he said.

But now that Shae had said they were going to the Cedric, Sansa really, _really_ wanted Jon here.

“I grew up there,” Shae said and Sansa’s eyes immediately went to her.

“You… grew up there?” Sansa had to ask because that just didn’t sound right. She pulled out her phone and went to the recorder. “Do you mind?” She asked. Shae shook her head and Sansa hit the record button. “You grew up in the Cedric Hotel?”

Shae smiled. “Yes. I still remember $20 a night or $100 a week. The hotel is registered as a residential hotel because of the area it’s in. The first three floors are the hotel for guests. Stupid tourists who have no idea what they’re getting into or weird people who want to ghost hunt. And the other fifteen floors are for people who live in the hotel full time. It was a way for the city to have a place for homeless and parolees and transients.”

“What was that like?”

“About exactly how you would imagine it to be. It’s probably considered a good thing that most people actually can’t imagine it. My mother worked the streets,” Shae then said. “The Cedric was really what we could afford and she…” she paused to swallow. “She did the best she could.”

Sansa wasn’t sure what to say so she didn’t say anything. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to say anything. It was important these women knew that Sansa didn’t consider them to be as if they were some foreign species that Sansa was studying. These were women – human beings – and all Sansa wanted to do was observe them and right their truths.

But then Shae said something that Sansa couldn’t help but respond to.

“She disappeared when I was about sixteen. After that, I had to take care of myself.”

“What?” Sansa’s eyes widened just slightly. “She disappeared? Where did she go?” That was a stupid question but one that fell from her mouth anyway.

Shae’s smile was small; distant. “What happened to Ros and women like my mom, they disappear all of the time.”

…

They weren’t actually going to the Cedric that night, Sansa found out.

“That will be another night,” Shae said as if she was making a promise and she parked the car in a public parking lot a few blocks away. “Tonight, I just want to introduce you to a few of the girls. Ros and I worked this area before Baelish promoted us to his house.”

“How do you get promoted?”

“Money. You earn more, you move up and appreciate the finer aspects of our careers.” Shae rolled her eyes at that and her face hid a thin veil of disgust. “Everything is about the money in this business.”

“And this area…” Sansa paused, trying to think of a good way to pose her question. “Business is good?” She winced as soon as she heard herself.

Shae just laughed. “This area certainly has a reputation. A person needs drugs or a woman – or man – they know to come here.”

“Of course,” Sansa murmured to herself.

Shae turned off the engine and Sansa watched as she unzipped her coat enough for her hand to go down the front of it. She dropped the keys into her bra and then took a moment to adjust herself. “Right. Your phone will be kept in your coat the entire time. Don’t pull it out for anything. I know you need to record so just try to stand as close to them as you can.”

Sansa nodded quickly, her heart already speeding up a bit.

“I’m not going to be leaving your side,” Shae promised. “We stick together, we’ll be fine.”

Again, Sansa nodded and Shae smiled.

“Can I text my boyfriend real quick? I just want to let him know that I’m alright so far.”

“Go for it. Oh! Dominic is out here!” Shae exclaimed at that, happy to see whoever Dominic was, before she left Sansa alone in the car. Sansa watched her through the windshield, approaching a man who was selling something from a shopping cart he was pushing.

Sansa made sure the phone was down past the windows so no one glancing over could see the phone in her hands and she fired off a quick text to Jon, making sure she did _not_ tell him where she was tonight.

_I’m with Shae and we’re about to be off, meeting some girls. But I just wanted to say that I’m here and if you want, I can stop by and see you once I’m done here tonight. Only if you'll be awake though. I don't want to bother you._

Sansa was about to drop her cell phone into her coat per Shae’s instructions but the “…” appeared immediately as if Jon had been staring at his phone, waiting for her to text him.

_Please come see me tonight when you’re done. I want to see you and hear about it. Be safe and smart tonight. Love you._

Sansa had been ready to type a response but she stopped at his final words.

_Love you_.

Jon loved her? Already? And did he actually mean that or had it been said in a casual way? Be safe, see ya, love ya? Like that kind of a casual way? Or did he actually mean that he loved her?

She had to type back. She couldn’t just pretend that she didn’t see those two words. If she had been the one to text that to Jon and he hadn’t responded, she would spend the rest of the night freaking out. She had to say _something_ to him.

But what?

She couldn’t text “I love you” back to him. Not because she didn’t feel strongly towards him. She did. After just this short amount of time, she already felt _so much_ towards him. She just didn’t want to have this particular declaration done over text messages. But she didn’t have time to explain all of that to him – not over a text.

She jumped about a foot upwards when someone knocked on her window and she turned, seeing that it was Shae, smiling at her. She gestured with her hand for Sansa to come. Sansa looked one more time at Jon’s text message before she dropped her phone into her coat and got out of the car. Her stomach felt like she had swallowed a brick – both from what she was about to do and because of the phone hanging around her neck, that last text message going unanswered.

…

Shae had Sansa put her arm through hers as they began walking down the street. Sansa was scared and she was certain that Shae could sense it but Shae didn’t say anything about it. She just squeezed Sansa’s arm tightly.

Sansa looked at everything around her. It was like stepping into a completely different world she hadn’t even imagined as existing. Tents were everywhere, eventually blocking the sidewalks and Shae guided Sansa over so they had to walk in the street. She saw women standing on street corners, dressed a little too lightly for such weather, but Shae didn’t stop at these prostitutes. There were no shops or stores. Boarded up buildings with the occasional soup kitchen or homeless shelter. The sounds and the _smells_ , Sansa honestly was feeling a little dizzy.

“Are they allowed to do that?” Sansa had to ask after seeing a drug deal happen right in front of her, Shae pulling on her arm so Sansa didn’t actually walk through the two men doing the exchange of money and capsules of something.

“The police don’t have the resources they would need to keep this place under control so the people in charge of such things kind of pushed everything into this one concentrated area. Almost everything can happen here and blind eyes are turned away from it,” Shae explained.

Now that Sansa was aware of that, her eyes seemed to take notice of even more things. More drug deals, people injecting or snorting in open view of everyone – she turned her head quickly away when she saw someone push a needle into their arm. Her heart was beating so fast, she became worried that it would actually stop. It was all so terrifying.

She wished she had never seen any of this and she was quickly beginning to regret not sticking with her original thesis of uncontacted peoples of South America.

They passed the Cedric Hotel and Sansa curiously looked through the front doors into the lobby. It actually looked quite nice. It had been built in the 1920s and from the brief glance she had, there was an art deco style to it.

“Here they are,” Shae let Sansa know as they neared a strip of street a block down from the hotel and Sansa saw three women ahead. “Hey, ladies!” Shae called out and two of the women turned – the third was leaning down, talking to someone in a car sitting at the curb.

“Shae!” One of them shouted.

Shae hadn’t let go of Sansa’s arm so when the two women both engulfed Shae in a hug, they were hugging Sansa, too. They were cold and smelled like cigarette smoke and mint gum and when they all stepped back, Sansa noted the two brunette women were beautiful.

“What the Hell are you doing down here?” One woman asked.

“You get away from here, you’re supposed to stay away,” the other added.

Shae was grinning at them both. “I want you to meet my friend, Sansa. Sansa, this is Genna and Doreah and Marei is the one at the car.”

“Hi,” Sansa said with a smile and a slight wave, feeling instantly like an idiot for doing that.

But the first one, Genna, just kept smiling at her. Doreah took a step back and looked at Sansa, up and down as if sizing her up and inspecting her.

“New girl?” She asked.

“I’m a grad student,” Sansa answered before she could stop herself.

Shae and Genna looked at one another and after a moment, they began to laugh.

“Well, I always hear college tuition is absolutely crazy,” Doreah said and they laughed harder and Sansa joined in, blushing and shaking her head at herself.

“No, she’s writing a paper on us,” Shae said.

“On me?” Genna asked, perking up.

“She doesn’t even know you, Genna,” Doreah reminded her.

“I hope I get to though,” Sansa was quick to jump in. “All of you. Shae is going to be helping me and she said that you might be willing to help me, too.”

“Why are you writing a paper on us? Hookers, I take it?” Doreah asked.

“I’m writing about you and the world you live in. No one knows anything about it except when something happens to one of you and then, people only care for about a day. I hope to open more eyes to what you go through,” Sansa tried her best to explain.

“Fuck off!” Marei suddenly shouted, pushing herself away from the car, and gave her middle finger for good measure.

Sansa noticed that there was a great big dog at Marei’s side and he began barking his head off as the car took off, squealing down the street, and Marei spit after it. She turned and stormed back to the girls, a thunder cloud on her face. She was also a brunette and Sansa noted that she was also beautiful. The dog followed after her.

“If you want anal,” she turned back in the direction the car had sped off in. “YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR ANAL, ASSHOLE!” She exhaled a deep breath and turned around again, her eyes falling right on Sansa. “New girl?” She guessed.

“Grad student,” Genna and Doreah both answered.

…

There were no coffee shops in this neighborhood but there was Dominic. He had a plastic five gallon coffee dispenser that he pushed in a shopping cart and sold cups for a dollar. Sansa was standing with Marei against a boarded up shop window, each sipping their own cups, and Sansa was listening as Marei spoke. After Shae had told them that Sansa had been the one to find Ros in Brighton Park, they had been much more willing to speak with her.

Sometimes, she would hear shouting or a scream or even a gunshot and sometimes, she would hear police sirens but for the most part, Shae had been right. A patrol car moved slowly down the streets but they never seemed to stop for anything. This really did seem like an open air market for just about anything and everything.

Sansa couldn’t stop looking at the dog though. He was big and absolutely filthy with knotted fur but through that all, she couldn’t help but think…

Of course it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. What would the odds of that be? But Sansa could almost swear – that through the dirt – that this dog was Jon’s dog. It wasn’t but…

“We call him Eddie,” Marei said, noting where Sansa’s eyes kept going. “He just showed up one day. You can tell he was someone’s pet. No collar on him but he’s just too damn smart to not have had someone taking the time to train him. He sticks with us and we girls take care of him.”

Sansa watched the way that Eddie went with each girl whenever they walked up to a car.

“He looks after us more than Bronn ever does.”

Sansa looked back to her. “Is Bronn… your pimp? Is that the right term?”

“We just call him an asshole but yeah, Bronn is supposed to be our protection out here. He doesn’t come with us when we go off with customers or anything like that but he’s supposed to look after us while we stand out here and deal with the assholes who try to get too much while paying too little. Of course, doing all of that gets in the way of him getting drunk off his ass every night so he’s not really around like he should be.”

“And Bronn and you all work for the same man?”

“Baelish, yeah. He has girls on the streets for the lowly and normal men and then he has the girls up at his house for the more highfalutin men of our fair city.”

Sansa watched as Doreah opened the door to a car and got into the passenger seat, Eddie seeing her off as the car pulled away from the curb and drove down the street. She almost shivered. She could never imagine doing anything like that. She couldn’t even fathom herself doing that. Getting in and out of cars all night with men she didn’t know and doing… well, whatever they paid for her to do.

Seeing it first hand, it was honestly beginning to make her sick to her stomach.

No wonder these women were such easy prey. Anyone could be in these cars, picking them up, and if they went missing, who noticed? Who cared? If anyone had the curiosity of what it would like, killing someone, this would be the place and these would be the people with who to try it.

Eddie came trotting up to them then and he looked up at Sansa, wagging his tail – as if he knew her – and Sansa smiled down at him, reaching down to rub his ear. She thought of the pictures Jon had of his dog and Eddie really did look like him.

But again, what the Hell were the odds of that?

“I’ll bring you some Milk Bones tomorrow,” Sansa promised him and Eddie’s tail wagged faster.

“You’re coming back?” Marei seemed surprised.

“Of course I’m coming back.”

…

She was exhausted but she went straight to Jon’s carriage house. She had to see him. After everything tonight, she had to hug him and be hugged by a _good_ man. She still hadn’t texted him back – not after his last text to her – and she felt awful for that – but she wanted to see him and say words directly to his face.

She hurried up the steps, hoping he would open the door to her. If she had said that to him in a text and he hadn’t responded for the next few hours, she probably wouldn’t open the door. She wouldn’t be angry. She would be horribly embarrassed and wouldn’t want to even look at him.

Her fist rapped quickly on the door, she doing her best to keep her breathing under control. She heard a floorboard creek on the other side of the door and she held her breath entirely. The locks turned, the door opened and there stood Jon. He was in sweatpants and a tee-shirt but he didn’t look as if she had just woke him up.

Sansa couldn’t explain it but just looking at him, standing there, she felt warm and she felt safe.

He opened his mouth to speak but before he could get a word out, she stepped into him and her arms went around him, hugging him. He didn’t tense or try to step away – both very good signs in her opinion. Instead, he folded his own arms around her and hugged her tight to him.

Sansa closed her eyes and pressed her nose into his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH!! We're already on chapter 15! I'm thinking Jon needs to solve this case soon. He's really not a bad detective lol
> 
> And as I mentioned, I am not specifying what city this story takes place in but I did take inspiration from Skid Row in downtown LA for this chapter.


	16. Height

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell into the heaviest sleep the other night and dreamt about this story. It made me change my entire PLANNED story and I wrote this instead. I'm actually very happy with the changes.

…

**Sixteen.** Height.

Jon was awake before six and the instant his eyes were open, he knew there wouldn’t be anymore sleep for him. He blinked for a moment, giving his body a moment to catch up with his brain, and he leaned over, giving Sansa a light kiss on the side of her head as she continued sleeping deeply next to him. She didn’t even stir.

With a small smile, he kissed her head again before quietly pulling himself from the bed. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, putting them on as he went into the bathroom.

He had to solve this case today. He had to. It was already taking too much time and yes, murders of prostitutes widely went unsolved, open forever in some dusty box in the records room of police stations all over the country, but Jon refused to let the same happen to Ros’s own murder. He was so close. He could feel it. He just needed one more day.

After seeing to himself in the bathroom, he went into the kitchen to start brewing a fresh pot of coffee. He had brought his file home with him last night and now, he took it from the kitchen table and went to sit on the couch. He would spread everything out in front of him and start at the beginning. It Was right in front of his face. He could feel that, too.

He began with the crime scene photos, pouring over each one. The person who had done this had been so angry. The attack had been violent and fast – as if they had exploded and nothing would be able to reign them back in until Ros was dead. They had cut off her nose and cheeks which led Jon to believe that not only was their anger but there was also hatred here, too. Who hated Ros? And why did they hate her? Was it Baelish, angry that Ros was trying to leave him and his business, wanting to do something else? Was it Roose, angry that Ros was moving on and maybe he had asked her to marry him already and Ros had rejected him? Was it someone else entirely that Jon hadn’t thought of yet.

The report had come back and the white cotton fibers found on Ros’s body did match the bed-sheet that Daisy had given him from Baelish’s linen closet but that wouldn’t be of any help. Meryn Trant wasn’t any idiot and he would argue that anyone in the city could own this bed-sheet since it wasn’t the only one ever made.

Why had the person removed her underwear? More hate? Had they wanted to humiliate Ros as much as they possibly could? But why just the underwear? Why not strip her completely? She hadn’t been sexually assaulted before her death so why remove her underwear? And her shoes, too, had been taken off. Why?

If he was to believe Roose – and that was a pretty big IF at the moment – Ros was picked up by him from La Table at 8:58 and were together until Ros got a call at 9:45 that made her return back home straight away. Her time of death was around 10, the song that Sansa heard in Brighton Park played at 10:08 and Sansa then called 911 at 10:11 when she saw Ros’s body.

That was an immensely small window for what happened.

And because Jon was still waiting on Ros’s cell phone records from the cell phone company, he had no idea who had called Ros that had made Ros rush back home like she had.

He next looked at the pictures of Ros’s _bare_ room. The blood detected on the floor that someone had tried to clean up was verified as Ros’s so her room had been where she died. Forensics had swept the entire room and even thorough vacuuming, laundry and dusting every other day as Baelish’s maid told Jon that she did, Ros’s room had still been a host to hair fibers and other bodily fluids that had belonged to a host of men who had sought Ros’s services. Roose Bolton’s own hair had been found in that room but again, the Judge would have said that that really didn’t mean anything as there were so many other different hair samples and he would be right.

He read Sam’s coroner report next and remembered Sam’s words. _You are looking for a man who is left handed. The cut on her neck was from right to left_.

Baelish had signed a form when he and Jaime had been talking, giving permission for them to speak with him, and he had signed it with his right hand. And he hadn’t seen Roose write anything while he and Jaime had been talking with him but he had reached for the photo with his right hand and had been spinning a coin on his desk with his right hand. That led Jon to believe that Roose’s dominant hand was his right hand. Was there a way to verify that? 

Jon smiled when lips pressed gently to his cheek. Turning his head, Sansa was leaning over the back of the couch and she smiled, too.

“Good morning,” she said.

Jon leaned in and kissed her on the lips. “Good morning. I made coffee.”

“I smell it,” she said, still smiling. He began to stand up to go get her a cup but Sansa shook her head and put her hands on his shoulders, keeping him on the couch. “I’m a big girl who can get my own coffee. You keep working.”

Jon didn’t though. Instead, he watched Sansa go into the kitchen, opening the cabinet where he kept the dishes and mugs. She was wearing a tee-shirt and a pair of gym shorts – both which she had borrowed from him, the waistband of the shorts rolled over a few times so they weren’t falling down. She chose the mug that Sam had given him for Christmas last year – “You’re Awesome – Keep that Shit up” – and poured herself coffee, keeping it black.

She saw him looking at her and she smiled before taking a sip. Christ, she was beautiful and she was here, in love with him. How the Hell had that happened?

He looked back to the report and then back to Sansa. “How tall are you?” He asked.

“Is that a deal breaker? You tell me you love me but only if I’m a certain height?” She teased. “I think I’m 5’8” or thereabouts,” she answered. “Is that good?”

“Considering we’re about the same height, a lesser man would be freaking out right now but I love you so I think your height is perfect.” He looked to Ros’s autopsy report just to make sure and then stood up. “Can you help me with something? If you don’t want to, I completely understand but… you and Ros are the same height.”

At the name, all amusement left Sansa’s eyes and her smile was gone. She stepped forward, sliding the mug onto the counter, and stood straight.

“What do you need me to do?” She asked without hesitation.

Jon wiped his hands on the sides of his sweatpants and going to her, he gently guided her away from the counter to stand in the open space between the kitchen and the living room.

“You’re standing here and I’m going to assume you’re talking to someone in front of you,” he said as he placed himself behind her. “You’re not paying attention to what’s behind you. You’re focused completely on what’s in front of you.”

“I don’t see it coming,” Sansa whispered.

Using his left hand, he reached around and dragged his thumb across her throat. Sansa jumped from the surprise of it.

“I’m sorry,” she instantly said.

“I’m sorry for making you do this.”

“I want to help you. And Ros. Is that what did it? Across her throat?”

Jon felt awful that he was doing this but at the same time, Sansa and Ros were the same height and there was something in the report that had jumped out at him. Something he must have read over and over by now but for whatever reason, his eyes had just moved right over it without allowing his brain to truly read the words.

“It was a deep cut. Almost down to her windpipe,” he answered and Sansa didn’t shiver or move away from his words. She remained standing there, not jumping as he reached around her again. “But the description of the wound, the angle of the blade… the report said that it was coming at an upwards angle.”

“Upwards? Like if the person was shorter than Ros?” Sansa asked.

“So, I’m the same height as you and Ros,” Jon said, more to himself, thinking out loud. “If I drop myself about an inch…” he dragged his thumb across her throat again. “Maybe another inch?”

“How tall is that Baelish man?”

Jon shook his head. “He’s actually just slightly taller than me.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed and he shared the sentiment but he had to move on. He had to follow the evidence and it wasn’t leading to Baelish. “What about any other of your suspects?”

“They’ll all taller, too. There was one guy who might have fit the shorter bill but he has an air-tight alibi and there’s even surveillance cameras from the dorm hallways that show him.”

“Dorm hallways?”

“I was looking at another of Ros’s clients. He actually goes to your university but like I said, he was in his dorm room and hanging out in the halls the whole night the murder happened and a person can’t be in two places at once so I cleared him.”

Jon dropped himself another inch – slightly awkward now – and brought his thumb back to Sansa’s throat. No. That seemed like it would have been too much of an upward angle. Baelish was out. So was Roose. So who the Hell else would it have been? Was there another suspect that Jon didn’t even know about? He had been determined to lower the number of suspects; not add even more.

He stood straight, at his full height, again and he went over it all again in his head. Someone shorter than Ros who would be there when she went back home. Another client? Another of the girls? Whoa. One of the girls? That’s hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“What are you thinking?” Sansa spoke through his thoughts.

Jon didn’t answer her, the new thought now rolling over and over in his mind.

It couldn’t have been one of Baelish’s girls, could it? Jon hadn’t considered it because this hadn’t been the usual crime women committed. When they murdered, women were quieter about it. Poisons or suffocation or even strangling. Not the brutality in which Ros had endured. All of those frenzied knife wounds, that was usually how a man attacked.

But if a woman _had_ been the one to actually murder Ros, she would have still needed help in rolling her body up and dumping her in the park. Maybe Baelish or Roose or even the both of them still weren’t in the clear.

He looked back to Sansa. She had figured he was done – for the moment – and she had gone back to the counter to get her cup, taking another sip of coffee. Jon came behind her but this time, his arms slid around her waist and Sansa leaned back into his chest.

“In one of my anthropology classes in undergrad, that crimes and murder one I told you about, we were talking about this newer study that humans are predisposed to murder each other.”

“That’s good for me. Job security.” He smiled when Sansa smiled, too. She took another sip of coffee. “Do you believe that?” He then felt like he needed to ask.

Sansa paused and setting her coffee down again, she turned to face him, his arms remaining around her waist and her own hands lifting to his chest. “It’s such an awful thought, isn’t it? I don’t think I even want to entertain the notion that it could possibly be true.” She looked into his face. “What about you?”

“I think people are pretty much capable of anything,” he answered and she gave a nod as if she knew that that would be his exact answer. “I’ve seen people kill each other for a car. For the smallest bit of money. I arrested a woman a couple of years ago who had killed her husband then her boyfriend a few months after that because she thought they were going to leave her and she didn’t want to be abandoned.”

Sansa looked a bit confused at that. “The logic…” she began to say and with a smile, Jon leaned in and kissed her.

But then, his own words made him pull back suddenly. He stared at Sansa.

“What?” She lifted a hand to his cheek. “What is it?”

The upward angle on Ros’s neck. Someone killing another for not wanting to be abandoned.

_Ros would look after me. I’m new to this and Ros kind of took me under her wing, so to speak._

“Jon,” Sansa said, her concern evidently growing as she looked at him. “What is it?”

He looked to Sansa and lifted his hands to her cheeks as he began to smile. “I have to get into the office as soon as possible.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss – a bit of a harder one this time. “I’m sorry-” he began to say.

“Don’t apologize,” she shook her head quickly. “Go take a shower. I’m going to go see if Mrs. Steward has an iron she doesn’t mind me borrowing for a little bit.”

“An iron?” That made Jon pause.

Sansa let out a laugh. “I’m not going to be a girlfriend who cares what her boyfriend wears but I _will_ be the girlfriend who makes sure her boyfriend’s pants aren’t ridiculously wrinkled.”

…

Jon stopped Jaime before they went into the interrogation room. He had already talked it out with Jaime and he had been relieved that Jaime didn’t think he had fallen and hit his head, making him talk complete gibberish. They both then went to go speak it with the Captain, who, thankfully seemed to agree with them after they laid it all out for him.

“You don’t have any evidence though,” Robert pointed out the obvious.

“That’s why we need a confession,” Jon said. “If we get the confession first, we can hopefully work back on some of the other things.”

“Can you be nice in there?” Jon now asked of Jaime.

Jaime looked properly offended. “I’m _always_ nice!”

“Just be nicer.”

He opened the door and entered the interrogation room with Jaime following behind him.

“Do I need a lawyer?” Daisy asked, sitting up straight in her chair and the sight of the two men.

“We can get you one if you’d like,” Jaime said as he and Jon sat down on the other side of the table. “But we haven’t read you your rights because you’re not under arrest. Detective Snow and I were just hoping to talk with you about Ros. Would that be alright?”

Daisy paused. She then shook her head. “Yes, that’s alright.” Her voice was small.

Jaime slid a paper across to her with a pen that basically stated that she agreed to talk with them. Jon desperately wanted to glance over to Jaime when he saw Daisy sign with her left hand but he didn’t. He kept his eyes on Daisy.

“Great,” Jaime smiled. “Would you like anything to eat? Drink?”

“I’m alright,” Daisy shook her head.

“I remember that when we first spoke when we were searching Baelish’s house, you mentioned to me that Ros looked out for you,” Jon said, resting his arms on the table.

“Yes. I haven’t been doing this for that long. Maybe a year or so. Baelish recruited me quickly from one of his corners and moved me to the house. Ros helped me get used to it,” Daisy said.

“Would you consider her a friend?” Jaime asked.

“Yes,” Daisy answered right away. “We were more than friends. I really did look up to her.”

“Were you aware that Ros was hoping to leave Baelish’s house and start a singing career?” Jon asked and with this question, he watched Daisy closely.

She nodded. “She talked with me about it, yes.”

It wasn’t fool-proof. It didn’t always work or hold truth but innocent people didn’t sit still. They were always slamming the table or answering angrily or standing up to pace; incessant with their innocence. Guilty people moved, too, but theirs was more fidgeting.

Daisy wasn’t moving at all.

Even if she wasn’t under arrest, she could have still been asking what this was all about or why they wanted her at the police station to speak with her.

“Were you happy for her?” Jaime asked.

“Of course.” That answer came too quickly.

“How tall are you, Daisy?” Jon asked.

Daisy looked at him, confused. “Why do you want to know that?”

“I’m terrible at judging a person’s height. I was just wondering. I know that some clients, some men, they prefer women of certain statures,” he explained.

She frowned at that. “Yes. I’m 5’5” and I have more than one schoolgirl uniform to wear.”

Jon knew this could go either way. If he showed her the photos, she would clam up and demand a lawyer or she could completely lose her shit. Either way, he had to do this.

From the folder in front of him, Jon took out a crime scene photo of Ros and turned it around so it was facing Daisy. “What did you do with her shoes?” Jon asked.

Daisy stared at the picture but at Jon’s question, her eyes flew to him. “What?”

“She was found without her shoes and her underwear. What happened to them?”

“How would I know that?”

Jaime leaned forward now. “Ros was with Roose Bolton but then she got a phone call and rushed home so whoever had called her had been very important to her.”

“Did you call Ros that night or was it another of the girls?” Jon asked.

Daisy frowned at them both and she didn’t answer. Jon took another crime scene photo and laid down for Daisy to see.

“You gave me one of those cotton sheets from Baelish’s linen closet. Were you trying to make me think that he had done it?” Jon wondered.

Daisy looked at Jon, her frown rivaling that of what Jon assumed Medusa had had.

“You think Petyr Baelish is innocent?” She practically spat the question.

“No,” Jaime was the one to shake his head. “But when it comes to murdering Ros, yes, I think he’s innocent. Is he? Or did he help you?”

Daisy practically laughed at that. “You think I killed Ros? How would I have managed that? How would I have gotten her body to the park?”

“The initial cut to Ros’s throat, it came from someone left-handed and shorter than her,” Jon informed her. “It came from you, didn’t it? You were angry at her for trying to leave _you_. For trying to go somewhere else and do something else and leave you behind so you had to stop her. You couldn’t let her leave you.”

“So you attacked her from behind and then what? Baelish and Roose were both there so did they see you do this? Did they both help you or did they both just help clean it up and hide it?” Jaime wondered.

Daisy didn’t say anything. She was staring at the photos in front of her.

But then-

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” She looked at both men. “Do you know what it’s like to have men _pay_ so they can climb on top of you or spank you or have you rub your feet all over their faces? Do you know what that’s like, day after day? Do you know what’s like when you finally meet a person who understands you without needing you to explain what you’re going through because she’s going through it, too?”

Jon and Jaime didn’t speak. They’d be idiots to interrupt when she was talking.

“Can you even _imagine_ what it would be like when the girl who becomes the most important person in the world to you, who becomes such a dear friend, tells you that she’s _leaving_? What would you do? You would do _anything_ to stop her from leaving.”

“What did you do, Daisy?” Jon asked.

Daisy looked at him and with almost a blank look and steady voice, she answered. “I needed her. She couldn’t leave.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! Sansa/Daario in the next chapter and of course, Jon/Sansa talking about this chapter.


	17. Breaking News

…

**Seventeen.** Breaking News.

There was a coffee shop in the student union on campus – Steamy Beans – and after Jon had left and Sansa, herself, had gone home, she got herself ready for the day and decided to go on campus. This was something she would have to get used to. Banks were closed on Sundays and that was the day she and Harry had always had together but detectives didn’t have set schedules and if Jon needed to go into the office on a Sunday, that was what he needed to do.

Her dad always made breakfast on Sundays and after taking a shower, she was persuaded to stay for pancakes and sausage rounds.

“How’s Jon?” Catelyn asked while giving Rickon a look for feeding Lady a whole sausage round as the dog begged next to his chair.

Sansa nodded as she swallowed her sip of orange juice. “He’s good. He actually had to go into the office this morning and I think I’m going to head to campus for a little bit and work some.”

“Does he have any news?” Ned asked next.

With five children, he had gotten very good at pretending certain things in regards to his children – things they did or did not do. It helped him keep a sane mind and what Sansa and Detective Snow did two doors down from the Stark home was as innocent as freshly fallen snow. They watched movies and played board games and Jon slept on the couch and no one could tell him any differently.

“He’s not allowed to talk about ongoing investigations, but it sounded like he had a very big eureka moment this morning.”

“Thank goodness,” Catelyn sighed, relieved, before picking up her coffee cup.

It was no secret that she and Ned had been terrified since they saw the news report of the woman’s body found in Brighton Park – the very park just a few hundred yards away from where their daughter lived and the very park where she walked her dog – and if Jon wasn’t able to find whoever was responsible, Catelyn knew that she would try to have Sansa live here, with them, permanently. It was also no secret though that Sansa was missing her apartment.

Catelyn was not a naïve woman and obviously, living in a city, bad things happened every day but this was the first time that something so truly awful happened so close to her own family.

(She had to wonder though if Sansa would return to her Brighton Park apartment or if she would be living _much_ closer from now on.)

After breakfast, Sansa headed upstairs with Lady in tow. Sansa felt bad. Between school, her research trip downtown and staying at Jon’s last night, she had hardly seen her beloved dog at all. And now she would be leaving her for the day again. She could bring Lady with her. Steamy Beans had tables outside but it was too cold to sit outside whether Sansa had coffee or not.

“Tomorrow, I promise, once I’m finished with my morning shift at the bank and my class, I will take you to the dog park and stretch your legs.”

Lady wagged her tail at that and seemed to approve of the plan. She hopped up onto Sansa’s bed and laid her head down – but kept her eyes open – as Sansa stripped and in her robe, crossed the hallway to the bathroom to take a long shower. She had taken one at Jon’s apartment the night before to wash the experience of the street off of her but then they had done other things that now required a shower before she could truly start her day.

She took the time to brush her teeth and put on a light coat of makeup. She dried her hair and then used a flatiron to twist strands and give it those lazy-looking waves that so many girls loved to have. She didn’t know if she was going to see Jon today – she hoped so – but the look he had gotten this morning, it might be a long day for him.

Back in her bedroom, Sansa got dressed and then began gathering all of her books and laptop.

“Be a good girl today,” she said, going to the bed and dropping a kiss on Lady’s head. Lady gave her a look at that and Sansa laughed. “I know, I know. You are always the _best_ girl.”

Downstairs, she kissed her dad on the cheek as he dragged Rickon outside so they could cut down the tree branch in the backyard that was making Catelyn nervous – she was convinced it was going to fall down just as she was standing out there – and then she kissed her mom goodbye as Catelyn had settled herself down in the family room for a day of knitting and the Turner Classic Movies channel. Normally, Sansa would love to join her but she had too much to do today. Lady had followed her downstairs and jumped onto the couch anyway to lay next to Catelyn and take, what would be, Sansa’s place.

Outside, just as she was unlocking her car, her phone began to ring and looking at the screen, she saw that it was Jon. She gasped with excitement and threw her bag on the backseat before throwing the front door open and practically throwing herself down into the seat behind the wheel. She slammed the door to give her as much quiet as possible.

“Hello?” She answered, out of breath, her heart racing.

“Is this a bad time?” He asked.

“God, no. Is everything okay?”

He paused then and she swore that she could hear him smiling and it made her begin to smile, too, as her heart slowed down to its usual pace.

“Do you remember what you were supposed to say to me if I ever made an arrest for this one?”

Sansa felt the breath catch in her throat and she couldn’t explain it but she felt tears start to form in her eyes. It had been a week since she found Ros in the park and though she hadn’t wanted to admit it, she knew that cases like this could have easily gone unsolved for years because Sansa had now seen it with her own eyes. Prostitutes didn’t matter. They saw dozens of clients and they were murdered and disappeared all of the time. No one cared.

But Jon had cared and Jon had been determined.

And Ros…

Sansa sniffled and a smile slowly spread across her face. “Book ‘em, Danno.” 

…

Steamy Beans was pretty empty for the early Sunday afternoon. Students didn’t really hang out in the student union except for the commuter students or parents who wanted something from the gift shop.

Sansa looked around as a person normally did once they entered a place and burst into a smile.

“Bran!” She called out and her younger brother lifted his head, bursting into a grin when he saw her. She held up a finger and he nodded before she went up to the counter. “Hi,” she smiled at the worker. “One large Latte Macchiato, please,” she said while pulling money from her back pocket, her eyes glancing up the television bolted to the wall, muted. She saw footage of Brighton Park and knew exactly what it was. “Oh! Could you turn that up, please?”

Sansa’s eyes were glued to the news as her coffee drink was made.

_“-all we know is that one person has been officially arrested and there are two more people of interest with who the police are currently speaking. Whether they have been arrested as well is unknown. When asked for an official statement from the police, Captain Baratheon confirmed that the suspect who has been arrested will be formally charged with the murder of Ros Wallace, a prostitute found in Brighton Park one week ago.”_

Sansa frowned a little at that. Did they have to describe her like that? Yes, she had been a prostitute but they didn’t always have to lead their description of Ros with that.

_“When more details are available, we will let you know and we will continue to follow this breaking story.”_

Sansa took her coffee from the worker with another smile and headed through the shop to the back table where her brother was sitting next to one of the windows. His laptop was open, he was wearing his glasses and a couple of his textbooks were next to him.

Bran was an undergrad at the university but he and Sansa honestly rarely saw one another. He had his own life and studies and she had her own. He came home for dinner a couple nights a week – and to have mom help him with his laundry. Bran was getting his bachelor’s degree in Occupational Therapy and then already had a plan to get his Doctor of Physical Therapy degree.

Seeing her getting closer, Bran stood up and the two gave one another a tight hug.

“I was reading a paper and my computer alerted me about your murder,” Bran said as they both sat down again, Sansa setting her own bag on the chair next to her.

She was sipping her coffee and gave him a nod. “I got a call from Jon before I got here.” Bran hadn’t met Jon – yet – but their parents and Rickon had told him about the detective. “He wasn’t able to tell me much else but hopefully, I can see him later.”

Bran closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair, taking his own coffee with him. “So are you moving back into your place then or shacking up with the detective?” He gave her a look complete with waggling eyebrows and Sansa’s response to that was to lean over and smack him in his stomach, Bran letting out a loud laugh.

“It’s way too soon for me to be moving in with him. We haven’t talked about anything like that and I went from living at home to living in a dorm with a roommate to living with Harry. Maybe I want to be on my own for a little bit,” Sansa shrugged.

Fine. She _had_ thought of living arrangements but that was only because with Harry staying out in California, Sansa knew she wouldn’t be able to afford the rent of their third-floor apartment in the renovated Queen Anne house. She loved that apartment and she hated the idea of having to give it up but Brighton Park _was_ one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city and she just didn’t make enough at the bank to cover it all on her own.

She’d have to find something smaller – maybe something closer to campus. This was a topic she didn’t even want to mention to Jon. He had a nice apartment and arrangement with Mrs. Steward that was perfect for him. Yes, they loved one another. It didn’t matter how quickly that had happened. It _was_ love between them but already discussing living together? She meant it. It was too soon to talk with Jon about that.

“Is Harry coming back to get his stuff?” Bran asked.

“He is. He’s staying out in LA for another couple of days and then flying back here to start boxing stuff up and shipping it out there.”

“Well, when you see him, tell him I hate him. That stupid show he’s going to be on is streaming on Hulu and I started watching it. Now I _can’t_ stop watching it.”

Sansa laughed before taking another sip of coffee. “That good?”

“It’s not just trash. It’s _shitty_ trash with a dash of self-loathing for always clicking the next episode and now that I actually know someone who’s going to be on it, I _have_ to keep watching.”

“I’ll pass along the message,” she smiled.

Setting her cup down, she pulled out her laptop and opening it up, she unlocked it. After some time with Jon in bed, Sansa had went to get her laptop and started making notes of everything she saw and the names of everyone she had met.

Going to the document now, she began adding to it. Shae wasn’t able to come with her tonight so she was going to park in the same parking lot and Doreah was going to meet her so Sansa didn’t have to walk through that neighborhood by herself. Sansa was extremely grateful for that. She was going to be spending many of her nights there and eventually, maybe she would get used to it, and yet, she already knew that she would never get used to it.

That a place like that actually existed was still something she was having a little difficulty believing even though she had seen it with his own two eyes.

Bran had gotten up to get himself another cup of coffee and Sansa’s phone began to ring. For a moment, she thought – hoped – it was Jon but when she saw the screen and saw Daario’s name, she couldn’t be that disappointed.

“Hi, Daario.”

“You need to come over.”

“Right now?”

“Tonight. Silvia is driving me insane and I need you to come over and distract her for a while. She asked me to take out the trash and I was going to but I had to finish my lesson plans and since I didn’t take it out right that very instant, she threw it at me.”

Sansa quickly took a sip of coffee so she didn’t start to laugh.

“I actually can’t come. I’m sorry. I’m heading back downtown tonight.”

Daario expelled a swift curse at that.

“ _But_ , I can stop by tomorrow. I have a little break between my shift at the bank and my classes.”

“Tomorrow might be too late.”

This time, Sansa rolled her eyes. “Silvia’s your wife and she’s pregnant. She is literally growing another human being right now. _Your_ child who you _helped_ make so get trash thrown at you and be sure to tell her thank you!”

“Not you, too,” Daario almost whined. “I thought you’d be happy. I saw the news.”

“I am happy. I’m… is that weird? I didn’t even know her.”

“Sure you did. You knew her and she inspired you and where you went last night and where you’re going again tonight, you’ll see her all over again. One killer of a prostitute caught. Countless more to go.”

“That’s a horrifying thought,” Sansa said quiet. True but still absolutely horrifying.

For hours, she saw Marei, Doreah, and Genna getting in and out of cars, driving off to empty alleys or secluded streets to service their customers and Sansa had thought, more than once, that it would be so easy. Kill the woman, open the door, and just push her out to ground like she was trash and drive away again. There would be no evidence. It would all be so easy.

And these girls knew that and still got in and out of these cars, possibly always thinking in the back of their minds that this might be the one who killed her.

“If you’re still alive tomorrow, can I come see you after lunch? I have started writing notes and I already have ten pages.”

Daario let out a whistle, impressed. Sansa couldn’t stop from smiling at that. She figured her paper would be anywhere from seventy to a hundred pages and these were just her notes. If luck was on her side, her thesis would fly from her fingers just as easily. She still had all of the serial killer research and statistics she had to write about.

“I’d like to come with you one of these nights if you think the girls wouldn’t mind,” Daario said.

“I’ll talk with them about it,” Sansa promised.

She knew Daario would understand though why it might not work. These were women – not test subjects. Daario approached his uncontacted peoples with the utmost respect and Sansa was going to treat the girls with the same. She knew Daario would treat them the same as well but she still wanted to talk with them first before she brought someone else around.

And maybe she wanted to keep this to herself for a little bit longer.

“Come see me tomorrow,” Daario agreed. “I can’t wait to read it all. And then you’re coming tomorrow night for dinner to help distract my wife who I love more than anything.”

“Deal,” Sansa let out a laugh. Her eyes went back to the television and there was another newsflash of the ongoing breaking of Ros’s case. “Can I bring someone with me?” She then asked. Hopefully, Jon wouldn’t be too against meeting some of her friends tomorrow after he'd had such a busy day today. 

…

As promised, Sansa had brought Eddie some treats – who had licked her face again and again when she showed him – and she brought the girls some bottles of water and snacks to eat. She had also brought a blanket that she now folded and sat on the sidewalk, her back against the same boarded up building from the night before. There was nothing special about her. Just another person sitting on the sidewalk. She wrote nothing down and her phone was zipped up in her coat. To anyone else, she was no one else.

She watched the three girls as they stood around their patch of sidewalk and just like last night, every time a car rolled to a stop at the curb, one of them went to it, bending down to talk to the driver, purposely letting him look down her top to see her breasts. Eddie went with them every time, keeping watch, sniffing at the car and lifting his head to sniff at the customer as well.

Sansa desperately wanted to take a picture of him so she could show it to Jon but that would mean taking her phone out and she just wasn’t going to do that.

She had talked with Jon before she made the drive down here. He was still at the police station, doing some last minute paperwork. He hadn’t named specific names but they had Ros’s killer in custody and two more men who were being charged with accessory.

“One of them flipped on the other two so I’m not sure if he’ll serve a day. That’s up to the DA and what he wants to charge them with,” Jon said and she could hear his disappointment.

“But the other two, they’ll go away?” She asked, trying to get him to look on the bright side.

“The one who did the actual murder, she might get the death penalty.”

Sansa was now still thinking about it. She saw what had happened to Ros and how she had been murdered; what that person had done to her. Sansa didn’t doubt that years from now, she would still have dreams – and nightmares – about it. She didn’t want to say that she was happy about the idea of another person being put to death for it. That was a whole other thing to think about that Sansa just didn’t want to right now. At least the person who had done this was caught. That was what Sansa was going to focus on.

“This trail mix is amazing, Sansa!” Genna, the youngest of the three girls at eighteen, beamed at her, eating a handful. “It gets rid of the cum taste in my mouth so good!”

Sansa didn’t cringe – though that was exactly what she wanted to do – and instead, she smiled. “I’m so glad you like it. I make it myself. I’ll bring more tomorrow night if you’d like me to.”

“Oh, yes, please! And I can’t believe you’re coming back!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sansa promised.

She didn’t know how she would but she was going to help these three girls. Somehow. She would write her thesis paper but when she was done with that, she was still going to help them.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!
> 
> Sansa brings Jon to Daario and Silvia's in the next chapter and Sansa mentions Eddie to Jon. He, of course, wants to go see him for himself.


End file.
